


Goner

by NoPleaseStayHere



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, Abuse, F/M, Gladys Jones is a scumbag, He just isn’t aware, In which FP is a good Dad, Jellybean does not exist, New Girl Betty, Non-Serpent Jughead, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Writer!Jughead, writer!betty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-03-31 13:59:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13976610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoPleaseStayHere/pseuds/NoPleaseStayHere
Summary: New-to-town Betty Cooper meets Jughead Jones while trying to revive the Blue and Gold. They become friends but soon Betty realizes he’s being abused at home by his mother.





	1. Though I'm Weak

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta, @elegantmoodchild on tumblr. Sam, you're wonderful. Thank you.

Three sharp raps on the wooden door made Jughead jump in his seat. He was used to the constant background noise of students passing in the hall, his fingers tapping on the well-used keyboard in front of him,the ping of an incoming email notification jolting him out of his thoughts. Nobody else ever entered the office of the Blue and Gold; only Jughead spent his lunch hours in here.

Jughead turned slowly, his eyes first landing on the dainty ballet flat-clad feet.

“Hi,” A voice chirped. “Do you run the school newspaper?”

He swallowed and pulled his gaze upward. She was smiling at him. “Mr. Kandinsky oversees everything we print,” he said as he looked down at the paper cup filled with coffee next to his worn, second hand cellphone. 

“Is he around?” He could hear the slap of her shoes against the ground. He looked up as she pulled out the chair next to his and plopped down.

Jughead grabbed his coffee and looked her in the eye. “Do you see him?” He replied, motioning around the room, empty save for the two of them. “He would be in the teacher’s lounge,” he murmured, cocking an eyebrow. He knew he shouldn’t be so short with her but his defences were always up. He looked at the computer screen and saved his work.

“Oh,” she smiled at him again and tucked one leg beneath her, as if she were getting comfortable. “Every school seems different. It’s my first day.”

“Well, I hope you find the other cheerleaders very welcoming.” 

“Cheerleading?” She burst out laughing, and Jughead stole another glance at her - eyes crinkled in the corner, perfectly straight white teeth, an ethereal sound filling the room - before he pushed back his chair and stood.

“I’m not a cheerleader. I was actually interested in writing for the newspaper.” Betty laughed. The monotonous ring of the warning bell sounded loudly, causing students to flood the hall outside. They had three and a half minutes to get to class.

Jughead shifted his weight from one leg to the other as he stood behind his chair. “Why? I mean -”

Betty turned, letting her leg drop to the floor. “Are you always so friendly to new students?” She mused, a smirk playing on her lips.

Jughead sighed. “We don’t get many new students - we get even fewer who want to be a part of the Blue and Gold. And because I’m the only one who contributes, I take new recruits pretty seriously. Sorry to disappoint.”

She stood and crossed her arms. “I was editor of my last school’s paper, and my parents ran multiple news outlets upstate. I take my writing seriously. Give me a chance.”

Jughead grabbed his cellphone from the table and shoved it into the front pocket of his jeans. He took his backpack from the floor and slid it over his shoulder. “Okay,” he nodded. 

Why was he being so ridiculous? Of course the Blue and Gold should have other writers, and this girl had given him no reason to distrust her. “I’ll talk to Mr. Kandinsky tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you,” She smiled and extended her hand. “I’m Betty Cooper.”

Jughead gave her hand a short shake before adjusting his backpack. “Jughead Jones - nickname, don’t ask.” He made his way toward the door, intending on dropping his backpack off at his locker before his next class. 

“Jughead?” She repeated, following him out of the office. 

He sighed, but before he could answer, another bell sounded, signaling the start of class. 

“Shit,” he muttered. “Shit, shit, shit.” He picked up the pace until he reached his locker, Betty trailing behind him. His hand was shaking as he spun the padlock. 

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re late for class,” he explained as he wrenched his locker open.

“Just tell them you were helping the new student,” Betty offered, a soft smile playing on her lips. 

Jughead shook his head as he grabbed a textbook off the top shelf. “Won’t matter, I have Mr. Howitzer next and he’s - it won’t matter.” He slammed his locker door closed.

“Hey, that’s my next class, too. Just stay with me, the new student excuse works on all the teachers.” She adjusted the backpack that was slipping from her grip. She put all her textbooks in her bag, content on lugging the weight around with her until she had her schedule memorized.

Jughead laughed, but it was a dark, humorless sound. He shook his head. “You try it and see what happens.” His long legs carried him down the hall quickly as Betty struggled to keep up.

Moments later, he opened the classroom door, his head down as he made his way to his desk.

“Jughead Jones!” Mr. Howitzer barked. “You’re late.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Howitzer.”

“And you,” the teacher’s voice boomed. He turned to Betty, who was lingering in the doorway. “You must be Elizabeth Cooper, our new student.”

“That’s me,” Betty smiled, stepping further into the room. 

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Elizabeth. Are you sure you’re in the right classroom?” Before she could open her mouth to speak, he continued. “I know it’s your first day, but it’s not that hard to read the school map. Only imbeciles are confused by maps, Elizabeth. This isn’t the right class for imbeciles. Are you an imbecile?”

“No,” she murmured, looking down at her feet. 

“We’ll see.” Mr. Howitzer shuffled the papers on his desk. “Take the empty seat next to Mr. Jones. I’ll see you both after school for detention.” 

Betty made her way past the half pitying, half smirking stares of her classmates. 

“Mr. Howitzer, I-I can’t stay for detention, I-” Jughead protested.

“Do you want to make it a week’s worth instead, Mr. Jones?” 

Betty saw him shake his head as she sat, taking her textbook out of her backpack as she set it at her feet.

“Now that our interruption is over, everyone can get back to page sixty-three,” Mr. Howitzer turned to write on the chalkboard.

“I’m so sorry,” Betty whispered as she turned her book to the right page.

“It’s fine,” Jughead muttered. “But the punishment for talking in class is even worse.” 

Betty nodded tightly and focused on the information in front of her as Mr. Howitzer continued to bleat monotonously at the front of the room. 

“Nice going, Uncle Fester, getting the hot new girl in trouble,” she heard a whisper from behind her desk. 

She saw Jughead stiffen next to her. He kept his eyes glued on the notes he was furiously scribbling into his binder. Betty, however, straightened her spine and sat a little taller. She turned in her seat to put a face to the voice. He gave a nod which she didn’t return.

… ~ ...

After the excruciating hour under Mr. Howitzer’s glare, Betty was relieved that her next class was one of her best - AP English. She was early to class this time, and stood in the doorway to observe her surroundings.

“Middle row, second from the front.” A voice came from behind her. 

She turned to see a short brunette smiling at her. “Hi. Veronica Lodge.” She extended a hand. “The seat next to mine is free.”

“Betty Cooper,” she shook the outstretched hand and smiled. “And thanks. I sat in someone’s seat first period and she wasn’t very nice about correcting me.”

Veronica grimaced as she guided Betty to their shared desk. There were a few students milling about the classroom, checking their phones and taking out their notebooks. “That could be half the girls on the cheerleading squad, unfortunately. Most people have lived in Riverdale their whole lives and don’t seem to know how to roll out the welcome mat. Hopefully the rest of your day has been more pleasant. It’s your first, right?”

Betty nodded as she sat. “It hasn’t been too bad, except I got detention.”

“Mr. Howitzer?” Veronica guessed.

“Yes! What’s with that guy?” Betty exclaimed, pulling a pen out of her bag.

Veronica rolled her eyes. “He’s still got the drill sergeant mentality. Don’t worry, Ms. Haggly is much nicer. She’s been a teacher here since the day they opened the school, apparently, but she never seems to get tired of dealing with teenagers.”

“Thank God,” Betty laughed. She looked up as more students entered the classroom. “Who is that?” She hissed towards Veronica.

“Who?” 

“That,” Betty exaggerated the word as a tall brunette gave her a head nod.

“That’s Reggie Mantle.” Veronica whispered as Ms. Haggly walked into the classroom and shut the door behind her. “Why, do you think he’s cute? He’s single.”

“No, I think he’s a jerk. I just wanted to put a name to the face.”

“That’s a common opinion around here.”

“Is he a friend of yours?”

Ms. Haggly began to write page numbers on the chalkboard. Veronica scribbled something on her notepad paper, then ripped it out and passed it to Betty. 

Don’t want you to get in trouble! Text me later, it read, followed by Veronica’s phone number.

… ~ …

By the end of the day, Betty was exhausted. The last thing she wanted to do was go back to face Mr. Howitzer, but she knew it would be much worse if she didn’t show up.

Jughead was already seated at the front of the classroom, a pen and paper in his hand, his backpack at his feet.

COMPLETE SILENCE was written on the chalkboard in large block letters. 

“Ms. Cooper. You sit there,” Mr. Howitzer instructed, pointing at a desk. It was at the front of the classroom, the same row as Jughead. There was one empty desk in between them, and nobody else in the room. 

Betty sat.

“You must work on a project, on homework, or write lines. You will not just sit there and stare at the ceiling. You will not talk, text, or eat in my classroom. You must be productive. Understood?”

Betty nodded and pulled out a notebook, then set it on her desk. She thought about starting her math homework, but instead wrote poetry.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mr. Howitzer stood. “I’ll be back in a moment. The rules still apply.”

Betty waited a beat after he walked out the door, then put down her pen and turned toward Jughead’s desk.

“I just wanted to apologize again, Jughead. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be stuck in here.”

Jughead stopped writing in his binder and turned to face Betty. “It’s okay,” he sighed. “I’ll still talk to Mr. Kandinsky in the morning.” He gave her an attempt at a smile.

She smiled. “I appreciate that, but I’m still sorry you’re stuck in here. You seemed pretty upset about it earlier.”

Jughead let his eyes drop. “Nobody likes detention.” 

“What are you writing?”

Jughead paused before answering her, keeping his eyes on his paper. “We’re going to get in shit if he catches us talking.”

“Right.” Betty picked up her pen. 

They were both silent until Mr. Howitzer let them go an hour later. He left the classroom before either of them could stand up. 

“Which way are you going?” Betty asked as she shoved her notebook into her bag. “Maybe we could walk together?” 

Jughead pulled the cellphone out of his pocket before muttering under his breath. He looked up at Betty, his eyebrows furrowing, before scooping his binder into his arms and grabbing his backpack from the ground. “I have to get home,” was all he said as he scrambled out of the room.

… ~ …

Jughead cursed himself the whole way home. He was walking as quickly as he could, one earbud in his ear, head down.

The pretty new girl was being nice to him and he had barely spoken to her in return. Then again, she distracted him to the point of being late for Mr. Howitzer’s class and everyone knew how easily he gave out detentions. He knew better.

Jughead lived on the border between the Northside of Riverdale and the Southside. His mother moved them out of the trailer park once she made enough money. His father was a trucker and was constantly on the road; he sent them money twice a month to help with rent and groceries. 

He saw his house come into view and slowed down just a little. He took a deep breath and shoved his hands in his pockets as he tried to mentally prepare himself for what was to come. The sun was beating down on him and he couldn’t wait to get inside and take off his sweater. He could see his mother pacing in front of the window as he got closer to his house.

As he ascended the steps of his rundown house, the door swung open. A hand wrapped around his forearm and pulled him inside with such force he fell into a table in the hallway. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Her eyebrows were furrowed as she slammed the door closed. She peered down at him, her eyes narrowing until they became slits.

“M-mom, I’m sorry, I got detention. I-“ Jughead stammered as he pushed himself off of the table. 

She shook her head, interrupting him. “Just how stupid are you, Jughead? You know my shift starts at three o’clock sharp! If you’re late, I’m late!” She closed the distance between them once again.

He scrambled backwards, but his mother grabbed his arm again, digging her long, red fingernails into his skin. “Don’t turn your back on me when I’m talking to you!”

“I’m sorry, Mom, I won’t be home late again.”

Gladys stared at him until he dropped his gaze. “That’s right. Now go to your room, I’m sick of looking at you.” She released her grip on him and picked her purse off a knob next to the door. “You better hope I don’t get fired because of you.” She muttered.

Jughead closed his eyes after the door slammed closed and counted to ten. He took a deep breath and walked over to right the table he had knocked over. 

He stripped his sweater off, then his shirt as he made his way to the bathroom. He locked the door behind him, knowing very well that his mother wouldn’t be coming back for seven hours, but he did it anyway - just in case. He unbuckled his pants and slid them off, then stared at himself in the full length mirror. 

Dark purple bruises littered his skin, decorating his flesh. There were small fingernail shaped marks on his forearm, and he was sure there would be a bruise to match when he woke up tomorrow. His back was sore from where he fell into the table, a bright red mark screaming against his pale skin, indicating where he met the corner.

There were old, fading yellow marks on his sides from last week when he forgot to do the dishes. A fading scratch on his leg when he tried to get away on his bike. 

He tore his eyes away from his reflection and pulled his beanie off his head, dropping it onto the pile of his clothes. He turned the knob on the shower until steam filled the room. He sighed as he stepped into the stream of water, relaxing as the hot water hit his tense muscles. He turned into the moisture, letting the hot water wash away the tears that slipped from his eyes.


	2. And Beaten Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, leaving kudos, and/or commenting! Thanks again to elegantmoodchild for being the best beta.

Betty balanced a tray of coffee and donuts precariously in one hand, trying to keep her backpack from slipping off her shoulder with the other. She knocked, as best she could, against the open classroom door. “Good morning,” she called out as she entered the room.

“Morning,” Jughead answered gruffly without turning around. 

“I hope you like coffee,” Betty smiled as she crossed the room, setting the tray of coffee down in front of him, then the donuts. “I just got black, but there are creamers and sugar packets in the donut box.” She set her backpack on the floor in front of her. “What, what’s that face?”

Jughead was looking up at her quizzically. His face looked puffy, as if he had had little sleep the night before. “This is for ...me?”

Betty laughed and took a seat across from Jughead, then took her coffee from the tray. “Well, this one’s for me,” she said playfully. “I just wanted to apologize again for yesterday.” She paused for a second. “You’re here early.”

Jughead leaned forward and grabbed his coffee from the tray. “It’s the best time for me to work on the Blue and Gold,” he explained, taking the lid off his coffee to let it cool. “I wanted to catch Mr. Kandinsky, too.”

“You did?” Betty smiled.

Jughead nodded. “You’re on the team.” 

“I am?” Betty exclaimed. “Thank you, Jughead.” 

Jughead returned her smile and took a sip of his coffee. “I think I made a good decision,” he laughed, motioning toward the empty tray and box of donuts. “Especially if this is how you like to start your mornings.”

“I can’t promise donuts every morning, but I can definitely be your coffee supplier.” Betty cocked an eyebrow. “You take it black?” 

Jughead nodded, took another sip and sighed. “God, this is good. Where did you get it?” 

“Rise and Grind,” Betty answered, tapping the logo on the donut box, where a smiling sunshine was hugging a coffee bean. She checked her phone for the time and stood, grabbing her backpack. 

Jughead stood too, grabbing his coffee as he did so. “Thanks again,” Betty smiled. She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed. “I’m so excited about this.”

Jughead winced and inhaled sharply as Betty pressed against his back, his ribs a throbbing reminder of yesterday afternoon.

“What’s wrong?” 

“I fell in the bathroom yesterday,” Jughead explained as he furthered the distance between them.

Betty nodded and gestured to the open box on the table. “Don’t let those go to waste.”

… ~ …

Instead of heading to the Blue and Gold at lunch, Betty made her way to the cafeteria. She slid her tray along the metal rungs in front of the glass displays, a grey haired woman staring down at her as she looked at her options. She decided against the hot lunch and made her way to the refrigerated section, choosing a greek salad, a fruit tray and a bottle of grapefruit juice.

She looked around when a waving hand caught her eye. She saw Veronica’s perfectly manicured fingers and smiled as she waved Betty over. 

“I’m so glad I caught you,” Veronica smiled as Betty sat across from her. “How was detention yesterday?”

Betty laughed as she opened her container of fruit. “Typical detention, scrubbed the floor with a toothbrush, shined Mr. Howitzer’s shoes, cleaned the chalkboard.” She joked. “The best part of my day.” 

“Don’t give him any ideas, he is a fan of cruel and unusual punishment.” Veronica stabbed a piece of watermelon from her tray. “So, what prompted the move to Riverdale?”

Betty shrugged. “My mom lived here until she was a teenager, moved away after graduation, met my dad. My grandpa passed away and left us the house, and my parents…” Betty paused, trying to decide how much information she should tell someone she just met. “They decided to spend some time apart. My sister is studying at NYU right now.” She speared a piece of pineapple. “Have you lived here all your life?”

“Nah, Ronnie was our new recruit about four years ago, but we’ve accepted her as one of our own,” a red haired boy said as he plopped down beside Veronica. 

“Betty, this is Archie Andrews. Archie, this is Betty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Betty smiled.

“You too, Betty.” He paused for a moment. “Do you live at 125 Turner Lane?”

”Leave it to you to stalk the hot new girl, Andrews,” Reggie Mantle guffawed, helping himself to the seat next to Betty. 

Veronica winced and offered Betty a small, apologetic smile. “Betty, this is Reggie.”

“I guess you didn’t get the pleasure of meeting me yesterday.” Reggie smiled and grasped Betty’s hand, his mouth kissing the top wetly. “You’re going to love me, Betty, everyone does.”

Betty snatched her hand away in disgust. “No offense, Reggie, but I think I’d sell you to Satan for a Diet Coke.” She stood and grabbed her unopened bottle of grapefruit juice. “I’ll see you in English, Veronica.”

… ~ …

Betty spotted Jughead sitting in the classroom alone. “Hey,” she smiled. “Great minds think alike; no more detention for us.” She was backpack-free now, only text- and notebooks in her hand, a pen tucked into the spiral binding.

“Great minds,” Jughead agreed. “Do you remember what kind of donuts you picked this morning? They were incredible.”

Betty laughed. “You ate all four?”

“No, just two. The box is in my locker,” he smiled. “But one of them had this amazing yellow stuff in the middle, and -“

“That one was probably the pineapple jam. Sounded good.”

“Pineapple! That’s it. I couldn’t put my finger on it. The other tasted like a Krispy Kreme.”

A few students started filtering in the room as the warning bell sounded. 

“Have you thought about what my first story should be?”

Jughead chewed on his lip. “Well, there’s always the football games that I never want to report on. We have school dances quite often. Sometimes we have special reports.”

“I could start an advice column,” Betty mused as more students walked in, followed by Mr. Howitzer. “Or a movie review.”

“You need a date to the movies, baby, I’ll be your man.” Reggie smiled as he walked past Betty’s seat to his own. 

“Reggie, you interrupt one more of my conversations, I swear to God,” she said, turning in her chair to face him.

“What, you’ll punish me?” He raised his eyebrow and smirked. 

Betty ignored him and turned around to face the front of the class. The last thing she needed was to get in trouble by Mr. Howitzer again.

Before class ended, Mr. Howitzer announced a project worth twenty percent of their grade. Their partners were their seatmates, and they were due next month.

“Between this and the Blue and Gold we’ll be spending a lot of time together.” Betty smiled.

“You poor thing,” Jughead murmured as he gathered his books in his hands.

Betty ignored him. “We should probably get started on the project soon. Are you free after school?”

Jughead thought for a moment, then nodded. “I have to go home after school, but we could probably get together around four?”

“Perfect.” She balanced her notebook in her hand and scribbled her phone number. She ripped the page from the book and handed it to Jughead. “Text me around four and I’ll send you my address.”

… ~ …

Betty had an episode of Friends playing on the television in the living room. Her laptop was on and open on the table in front of her, next to a bowl of chips and her History textbook.

The doorbell rang and Betty padded down the hall in socked feet to answer it. She opened the door wide and stepped back, letting Jughead brush past her. She noticed he was in the same clothes he wore to school earlier, while Betty had changed into an oversize sweater and leggings, her hair pulled into a bun.

“Nice place,” Jughead said softly and pulled his mouth into a smile. 

“Thanks,” Betty laughed softly and tilted her head toward the living room. “This way.”

Jughead followed her and slipped his backpack off his shoulders.

“I didn’t know if a TV show would bother you while you study, or what you usually do, I hope this is okay.” Betty sat on the couch and grabbed a potato chip from the bowl.

“I usually study in the library or in my room with music on. This is fine, though, really.” Jughead sat at the other end of the couch and took his notebook out of his bag. “So, we were assigned Dachau, right?”

“Yeah,” Betty scooted her legs underneath her and opened her textbook onto her lap. After a moment, she looked up. “There doesn’t seem to be much about Dachau specifically in the textbooks, it just mentions concentration camps in general. I guess we’ll have to search the majority online.”

Jughead nodded. “May I?” He asked as he picked up her laptop.

“Of course,” Betty smiled and stood. “You want something to drink?”

“Sure, whatever you’re having is fine.” 

Betty retreated into the kitchen only to come out a moment later with two bottles of Gold Peak iced tea in her hands. She handed one to Jughead who had pulled YouTube up on the screen.

“I know these aren’t specific to Dachau, but I figured watching some testimonials from people who had survived the camps might give us better insight.”

“That’s a really good idea, Jughead.” Betty said as she perched on the arm of the couch to better see the laptop screen.

It was only after they exhausted all their options on YouTube that they realized how long they had been sitting there, watching video after video of concentration camp survivors.

“Jesus, I’m starving. How about we pause for some food?” Betty suggested. “I’m thinking pizza.”

“I can’t let you do that, Betty, you brought me coffee and donuts this morning.”

“My Mom left me money for dinner anyway, Jughead, and I won’t be able to eat it all by myself.”

He looked at her for a moment - his mother shouldn’t be off work until ten - and agreed. “Okay, sure. We haven’t really done much studying anyway.”

“Is there anything you don’t like?”

“I don’t eat pineapples on pizza. Anything else - and I mean anything else - I’m good with.”

“What’s the best pizza place in town, Jug?”

“There’s this little place on the south side of town that has the best buffalo chicken pizza. But if you don’t like spicy, their pepperoni is delicious, too.”

“I love buffalo chicken!” Betty smiled. “You want breadsticks, too?” She asked, picking up her phone.

“Sure,” He shrugged, trying to hide his amusement. “Their dipping sauce is good, too.”

Betty nodded and dialed the number she found on Google. “Hi,” she said into the phone. “Can I have a large buffalo chicken pizza, an order of breadsticks and a dipping sauce please?” She paused, then added “garlic, please.” She recited her address and then ended the call.

“They’ll be here in thirty minutes. Did you want to keep taking a break, or should we get back to it?”

“We should probably get back to it, then take a break when we’re eating.” 

Betty nodded and rounded the coffee table to take a seat on the couch.

“Where’s your washroom?” He asked, standing. He put the laptop in Betty’s hands.

“Up the stairs, second door on your left.”

Jughead waltzed up the stairs and closed the door behind him. He took a deep breath and pulled his hoodie over his head. The Cooper household was kept warm, he discovered, and he was sweating through his shirt. He peered at himself in the mirror, examining his bruises. He knew he couldn’t keep his hoodie off - where his mother had gripped his forearm yesterday was now a deep purple bruise, outlined with fingernail shaped wounds. He splashed himself with cool water, put his sweater back on, relieved himself, then made his way back down the stairs.

“Find any more information?” He asked as he entered the living room.

Betty sighed. “Yeah. It’s so depressing. Why did he choose concentration camps as our project topics?”

Jughead shrugged as he sat on the couch. “He’s a sadist. So how are you liking Riverdale High so far?”

Betty placed the open laptop on the coffee table and turned to face Jughead. “It’s okay. One girl in my English class has been pretty nice to me, but not that many people have been talkative. How long have you lived here?”

“Pretty much all my life,” Jughead sighed. “Most people at Riverdale High are stuck up or in their own world. I wish I went to Southside High School, but my Mom made sure that we lived on the border between the north side and the south side to prevent that.”

“Why do you wish you went there?”

“That’s where my friends are. Granted, I don’t have that many, but Fangs, Sweet Pea and Toni are good people.”

“More nicknames?” Betty guessed, picking up her bottle of iced tea.

“Yeah,” Jughead laughed. “At RDHS, though, I’m pretty much alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Betty shook her head. “You have me.”

… ~ …

As Jughead walked home, his stomach full of pizza, he thought of Betty. She wasn’t like anyone else in Riverdale. She was nice to him instantaneously, the moment they met she was warm. He thought of the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, how her laugh made his stomach feel hollow, how bright green her eyes were.

He turned to walk up the front stairs to his house, too swept up in his thoughts to realize the living room light was on.

He unlocked the door and dropped his backpack in the hallway, stopping dead in his tracks as he saw his mother perched on the dingy couch, a mug clutched in her hands.

“Honestly, Jughead, what is up with you lately? I don’t ask much of you, son. Where the hell have you been?”

“I didn’t think you’d be home this early.” Jughead stammered.

“So what, you run around behind my back misbehaving? I have to be home every second of the day to make sure you’re doing what you’re supposed to?”

“No, Mom, I was working on a history project with a girl from class.”

“Are you talking back to me? The dishes are in the sink, go do them.” She spat.

“Yes ma’am,” Jughead murmured.

“So, a project, huh? How are you doing in your classes, Jughead?”

“Most grades aren’t out yet,” Jughead said quietly. “But on my last Geography test I got ninety-two percent.”

“What about math?” she asked as Jughead entered the kitchen. 

“Math grades aren’t out yet,” Jughead responded quietly as he shoved his hands in the cold dish water.

“You better not be failing again.” 

“If I were allowed to stay out and study instead of -” Jughead caught himself and whipped around, facing his mother. “I -”

Gladys narrowed her eyes at her son. “What did you say?” She gripped her coffee mug tighter, then released it against the cupboard next to her son’s head. “Don’t you dare blame your failing grades on me.”

Jughead turned and lifted his hands out of the water, staring at the shards of broken mug around him. “If I can’t study, how am I supposed to-”

Gladys hit Jughead with a force that knocked the wind out of him; he slipped on the water left on the floor from his hands and ended up on the kitchen floor. “You’re pathetic.” Gladys hissed. “I’m going to the Wyrm.”

Jughead clutched the side of his face, waiting until he heard the close of the front door until he let out a frustrated scream.

… ~ …

The next morning, Jughead trudged down the school hallways with his hood up, head down. He entered the office of the Blue and Gold as he did every morning and fired up one of the computers.

He started his piece about Mr. Smith retiring, checked the Blue and Gold’s email and looked at his phone a few times until he heard the slap of footsteps entering the classroom. He kept his head down until the feet bounced toward the chair next to his. He looked up as Betty set down a cup of coffee beside him.

“Oh my god, Jug, what happened to your eye?”


	3. I'll Slip Away Into the Sound

“Oh my god, Jug, what happened to your eye?” Betty’s fingertips fluttered over his skin, reaching out but never touching. “Jug,” she said again sadly, her voice barely a whisper. 

“It’s nothing,” Jughead promised as Betty dropped her hand. “You know in movies when you see idiots falling into door knobs?” He tried to keep his voice light. “You never see it happen in real life, but that was me yesterday.” He stares into her eyes, silently daring her to challenge his story. 

“Do you want some ice?” She asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “It looks so painful.” 

“I’m okay, Bets, but thank you,” the new nickname feeling easy and familiar on his tongue. He picked up his coffee and took a small sip. “I was thinking for your first Blue and Gold article you could write little blurb about yourself. You know, sort of introduce yourself as a writer.” 

“Sure,” she smiled sadly. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, as if stopping herself from saying something. “I could do that. When do you need it by?”

… ~ …

 

Betty made her way over to the same cafeteria table she sat with Veronica at yesterday. The brunette was sitting with a plate of sushi in front of her, a paper cup of green tea cooling to the side. Betty looked down at her own tray of grey looking meatloaf and wished she had gone for another salad instead.

“Where did you find sushi?” 

“We get it brought in from New York,” Veronica smiled apologetically. “God, what kind of meat are they trying to pass that off as?” She sniffed as she looked at Betty’s tray.

“I know, the meals are sadder here than my last school. Thankfully the fruit and vegetables look safe.” 

“If you want a piece of sushi, just let me know.” Veronica smiled as she picked up a portion with her chopsticks. “I’m glad you’re here, though. Cheryl Blossom is having a party tonight and you should totally come.”

“A party?” Betty smirked as she speared a cooked baby carrot from her plate. “Who are you going with?”

“Archie, Josie - I’ll introduce you two tonight, if you come, and I know you’re not his biggest fan but… Reggie will be there, too. I know he rubs people the wrong way.”

Betty wrinkled her nose, then laughed. “Yeah, he’s a piece of work all right. ‘You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting me yet,’” She mocked, rolling her eyes. “A party does sound fun, though. You’re sure Cheryl won’t mind?”

“Not at all! Half the school will be there.”

“Okay, perfect. Text me the address.” Betty said, passing her phone over to Veronica.

Veronica tapped the phone quickly, entering her information. “I think we’re getting ready at Archie’s. Why don’t you join us there?”

Betty nodded and tried a piece of her grey beef. “Are you and Archie dating?”

Veronica laughed. “Oh god no. That hunk is sweet and all but I’m into trying different flavors of boy right now and orange is just one of many.”

“Well, you seem to have a boy buffet at your fingertips,” Betty agreed. “Where does Archie live?”

“123 Turner Lane,” Veronica said, grabbing her last piece of sushi.

“You’re kidding.” Betty smiled. “He’s my neighbour.”

“So you have no excuse if you’re late.” Veronica laughed.

… ~ …

“Jug!” Betty smiled. There were a few students already in class talking amongst themselves, Jughead nose deep in his textbook. She plopped down beside him, tossing her notebook gently onto the desk. “What are you doing tonight?”

Jughead stared at Betty’s long legs as they tangled together against the stool underneath their desk. “Not too much. Why, do you want to research our project?”

“Mm, no.” Betty admitted. “I want you to come to a party with me.”

“Whose party?”

“I can’t remember her name. Someone I met in A.P. English invited me, but I want you to come. Maybe we can try to dig around for some interesting topics for the newspaper.” Betty said lightly. “What do you think?”

He chewed his lip, thinking it over. “I have to check with my Mom,” he said quietly. “Can I text you and let you know?”

“Of course,” Betty smiled. It quickly dropped off her face as Mr. Howitzer entered the classroom, his scowl seemingly more serious than the past few days. She sighed internally, bracing herself for the next hour of class.

… ~ …

Betty was in her room running a brush through her hair, trying to decide what to do with her blonde locks. There was a straightener warming on her desk and she had picked out several outfits for tonight. Her window was slightly ajar and she could faintly hear music coming from the house next door.

She made sure to close her blinds before changing into a pair of jeans and a black shirt, then she flicked off her straightener and made her way down the stairs. She took two of her mom’s hard apple ciders from the fridge, scribbled her a quick note ( _i’ll pay you back, i’ll be safe, i won’t be late - B_ ) shoved her phone and forty dollars in her back pocket and was out the door.

Betty texted Veronica, who met her at the Andrews’ front door a moment later. Betty could hear the music coming from upstairs, but it wasn’t the bass-thumping house music that she assumed would be at the party later; it was R&B from the 90’s and she wondered who picked it.

“Those are delicious,” Veronica smiled, pointing at the cider in Betty’s hand. “Perfect for when we’re on Daddy’s boat in the middle of Lake Placid.”

“Oh, does your family like it there?” Betty questioned. “I’ve never been.”

“Well, it’s not as nice as the Italian Riviera, but it’s nice for New York,” she said matter-of-factly. 

Betty laughed. “Are you drinking?” She questioned as they mounted the stairs.

“I’ve got a bottle of wine and some peach schnapps in Archie’s room - he’s sticking to beer. I think Reggie has a bottle of rum and Josie doesn’t drink. Have you met Cheryl yet?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“She’s kind of intense, but she throws parties all the time. Her parents are never home and her brother’s in University, so they don’t seem to care what she does.”

“Where does she live?”

“Thorn Hill. It’s that giant creepy looking place on the edge of town. It doesn’t take too long to get there, though,” Veronica said as they turned into Archie’s bedroom. He had a guitar on his lap but wasn’t plucking the cords. 

Josie smiled at Betty as they walked into the room. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Josie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Betty smiled as she popped the top on her can of cider. 

“Reggie’s in the bathroom. He’s had a couple shots so he’s a little -“

“Betty,” a voice called from the doorway. Reggie’s lips were turned upward and his cheeks were pink. “Nobody told me you’d be here.” 

“Veronica invited me,” Betty explained, sitting on a pillow on the floor next to Josie. “I live next door.” She kept her tone light, trying to be friendly. 

“Andrews!” Reggie exclaimed, tossing himself down on the bed. “Best view in town?” 

“God, Reggie, don’t be such a pig.” Veronica clicked her tongue and perched on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs.

“You want a shot, Betty?” Reggie asked, picking up his bottle of rum from the carpet.

“I’m okay, thanks,” she replied, taking a sip of her cider.

“Josie?” He held the bottle out.

“You know I don’t drink, Reg.” She answered, changing the song from her phone. Reggie offered it to Veronica, who took a swig from the bottle, then Archie, who did the same.

Reggie stood and walked over to the mirror, looking himself up and down. “Damn, I look good tonight.”

Archie shook his head, laughing, and Veronica looked at him exasperatedly. “God you are so cocky.”

Reggie turned to face her and pursed his lips. “It’s not cockiness, it’s confidence, baby.”

Betty shook her head and ignored them, picked up her cellphone and shot Jughead a quick text.

They busied themselves for the next hour, listening to music, and drinking. Reggie kept the majority of his comments to himself and Betty felt herself warming up to the group.

They crowded themselves into Josie’s small VW beetle and she turned on the radio. Betty was in the passenger seat, Veronica, Archie and Reggie taking up the back. As the song changed, Reggie started singing along, Archie jumping in next, then Josie. Betty couldn’t help herself and joined as well, then Veronica. They were belting out the song at the top of their lungs and Betty hadn’t remembered feeling this relaxed in a long time. 

As they piled out of Josie’s car, Betty looked up at the large gothic home. “This place is creepy,” she muttered under her breath. 

“If you think it’s creepy now, don’t go in the basement,” Josie joked.

“It’s not that bad,” Veronica assured, linking her arm through Betty’s. They ascended the steps, students pushing past them, a keg between their shoulders. “Barbarians,” she muttered.

The door opened before they had a chance to knock. “Greetings,” a girl their age stepped out. She had long red hair and was wearing a short black cocktail dress. “Welcome to my humble abode.” 

She stepped out of the way so they could enter, the party already in full swing behind her. “Please help yourself to the wet bar, and there are snacks throughout the kitchen.” 

Archie and Reggie made their way to the bar, Reggie’s half-empty bottle of rum tucked under his arm. Cheryl stepped in front of Betty. “I’m Cheryl Blossom, of the Riverdale Blossoms. Et tu?”

“I’m Betty Cooper. Thanks for letting come to the party.”

“Any friend of Veronica Lodge is a friend of mine.” She gave Betty a tight smile and excused herself, retreating into the crowd of people.

“She’s intense, huh?” Veronica said as Josie joined them. “She’s really not as bad as some people -”

“Oh, that girl’s got a stick up her ass, always has.” Josie interjected. “Throws one hell of a party, though. Come on,” she laughed, grabbing Veronica and Betty’s hands and backed up into the living room, swaying to the beat of the music. Archie and Reggie were on the couch, drinking from red cups and talking amongst themselves.

A few songs later, Betty noticed Cheryl standing near the door with her arms crossed, Reggie and another boy she didn’t know flanking her sides. 

“Who invited that neanderthal?” Cheryl said quietly, casting her eyes downward in disdain at the figure in the doorway.

“I did,” Betty said in Cheryl’s ear, too quiet for anyone else to hear. She strode over and grabbed Jughead’s arm lightly, pulling him into the chaos. “I’m so glad you could make it,” she smiled. “Do you want a drink?”

“Uh, sure,” Jughead nodded. “A beer would be good.” He followed Betty to the wet bar where three buckets filled with ice and cans of beer were laid out. 

Betty pulled out two cans, tossed one to Jughead and popped the tab.

“So, you’re friends with Cheryl Blossom?” He smirked and opened his beer.

“Not exactly,” Betty smiled. “Veronica invited me and I didn’t know who Cheryl was when I got the invite. I didn’t know it was going to be this… big.”

“Veronica Lodge, huh?”

“Yeah. She’s been really nice to me.” She let the words hang in the air; he could make of them what he wanted to.

Jughead nodded. “I’m glad.”

“How’s your eye?”

“Tender,” Jughead shrugged. “I’m okay, though.” He said quickly.

Betty grabbed another can of beer from the tub of ice. She smoothed a lock of hair away from Jughead’s face, tucking it underneath the edge of his hat, and gently pressed the can against his cheekbone. “How’s that?”

He swallowed. “Better.” 

“Sorry to interrupt,” a voice came from behind Betty. “I just wanted to officially introduce myself.” Veronica stuck her hand out in front of Jughead. “I’m Veronica Lodge.”

Betty put the unopened can of beer back in the bucket.

“I know,” Jughead gave a soft smile. “Jughead Jones,” he shook her hand. “...the third,” He added.

“The third?” The girls said in unison, Betty’s eyebrows raising. 

“Yep. Terrible name passed down for generations,” he said, taking a swig of his beer.

“Attention!” Cheryl called from the living room. She stood on a wooden table, her hands clasped around her mouth. 

Veronica rolled her eyes towards Betty and Jughead and the three of them started toward the room.

“I thought a few of us would play a fun little game,” Cheryl smiled wickedly once a handful of her classmates were gathered around her. “Maybe seven minutes in heaven?”

A few people that Betty didn’t know walked away to join others in the kitchen. Archie was the first one to claim that he was willing to play, followed by Josie and Veronica. 

“I’ll go first,” Reggie exclaimed, clutching a red plastic cup. “But only if Betty comes with me.” He marched over and put his arm around her shoulders. 

“I don’t want to play,” Betty said softly, trying to untangle herself from Reggie’s grip. “Please get off me.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Reggie’s heavy arm pressed harder, pulling her into him.

“Reggie, let go,” she huffed. Reggie’s other arm wrapped around her middle. “Last chance.” she said louder.

“I’ll give you a little taste,” he slurred. “So you know that you’ll like it.” His turned inward to face Betty, his body bending to meet hers.

Jughead stepped forward just as Betty brought her arm backward, her hand closing into a fist as she put her weight into it, connecting with Reggie’s jaw.

“Oh my god,” Veronica murmured at the same time that Reggie landed on his back on the floor. 

Reggie stared at her dubiously from the ground. 

Betty turned to face Jughead. “Do you want to get out of here?”

He nodded, the entire group in the living room staring at Betty in awe. 

“Wait, I’m coming with,” Veronica said, grabbing Betty’s elbow to keep up with her strides.

… ~ …

“Where are we going?” Veronica questioned, wrapping her arms around herself to stay warm.

“We’re getting sustenance,” Betty reminded her. “Punching takes a lot out of you,” she joked.

“So does getting punched,” Jughead murmured. 

The girls peered at him curiously.

“What? Everyone’s been punched.”

“I’ve never been punched.” Veronica stated.

“Me neither,” Betty claimed. She shivered as the wind blew.

“It’s not fun,” Jughead claimed, pulling his hoodie off. He was wearing a henley underneath, the long sleeves clenched under his thumbs. “Reggie deserved it, though,” he continued. He gathered his sweater and gave it to Betty.

She smiled at him and pulled the sweater over her head. It smelled like orange and cardamom, smoke and sugar. The three of them turned onto a new street and mounted the sidewalk, reaching their destination. The brightly lit sign shone down as they opened the heavy door.

“Hey, Pop,” Jughead greeted the man behind the counter. He shot him a bright smile as he wiped down the counter. 

“Jug!” The voice came from the end of the diner. Two dark haired boys in leather jackets were sitting in a booth, one of their arms were raised. 

Jughead nodded his head, then made his way toward them, Betty and Veronica in tow.

“Hey, man. What did you get up to tonight?” One of them asked, smirking. 

“House party on the north side,” Jughead explained. “Didn’t last too long.” Jughead shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “Betty, this is Fangs,” he said, introducing her to the smirker. “This is Sweet Pea,” He gestured to the boy sitting on the other side of the booth. “And this is-”

“Veronica Lodge,” Veronica interjected, thrusting her hand forward. “Pleasure.”

Sweet Pea shook her hand. “Nice to meet you both,” he said, a slow smile creeping onto his face. “You want to join us?”

“We’d love to,” Veronica smiled and slid into the booth before Jughead or Betty could say differently.

“Man, what happened to your eye?” Fangs asked as Jughead slid into the booth beside him, Betty following suit.

“Ran into a doorknob,” Jughead said quietly, his eyes cast down.

“Yeah, right,” Fangs laughed. “Who punched you?”

Jughead swallowed and pursed his lips. “It was a doorknob.” 

Pop walked over to their booth, a notepad in hand. “What can I get you?” He smiled.

They ordered a few baskets of french fries and onion rings between them. Veronica ordered a Diet Coke, Betty a water, and Jughead his usual, coffee. Sweet Pea and Fangs took refills on their coffee, too.

They sat there eating and talking, surprised at how much the five of them had in common. Betty talked about her old school and living up state, and Fangs told them about how different Southside High seemed to be than RDHS. 

They were the only ones left in the diner and Pop had finished mopping twenty minutes ago. Veronica left cash on the table, paying for everyone, and they excused themselves politely.

Fangs and Sweet Pea went one direction while Veronica, Betty and Jughead went the other. After they had crossed the street, Veronica turned to Jughead. “Is your friend Sweet Pea single?”

Jughead groaned, but there was a smile in his eyes. “Yeah, he’s single.”

“Good. ‘Cause I’m going to climb him like a tree.”

The echo of Betty’s laugh rang out through the streets.

They walked Veronica home first, even though she assured them both that she’d be fine by herself. 

“Thank you for coming tonight,” Betty murmured as the two of them turned onto Betty’s street. “I bet it wasn’t really your scene. And we didn’t get to talk about the paper…” 

“That’s okay,” Jughead smiled. “Seeing Reggie Mantle get punched in the face was amazing. Totally worth it.”

“I’m glad,” Betty smiled, nudging her shoulder into his.

“Joking aside, though, you’re okay? He was pretty handsy.”

Betty nodded. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

They passed Archie’s house and Betty noticed all the lights were still off. “Oh! I forgot to tell you - I have a camera we could use for the paper, if you’re interested. My dad gave it to me before we left.”

“That would be amazing,” Jughead’s face lit up. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Betty shrugged. They stopped in front of her house. The street was quiet, the whole town seemingly asleep. “I won’t use it for anything else.” She paused and looked at her house. There was a light on in the bathroom upstairs. “Well, thanks for walking me home.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“Text me tomorrow if you want to work on the project… or anything.” 

“Sure,” Jughead replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

Betty lingered a beat longer, waiting. “Goodnight,” She said finally, trudging up her walkway.

It was only after she was inside did she realize she was still wearing his hoodie. She went to bed that night smelling of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, to @elegantmoonchild. You're the best.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone leaving kudos and comments, they mean everything to me.


	4. The Ghost of You Is Close To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the lovely elegantmoonchild for being my beta. You're the best.

Betty awoke on Saturday morning to the sun streaming into her window. She stretched and reached for a bottle of water, then grabbed her phone. She had three texts from Veronica:

**I can’t stop thinking about Jughead’s hot friend.**

**Can you set up a group hang? Pleeeease?**

**Betty!**

Betty smiled, memories of last night flashing back to her. She stretched again, then sat up, slipping her feet into the bunny slippers waiting for her at her bedside. She was still clad in Jughead’s warm sweater and she pulled it down so it covered most of her bare legs. 

As she made her way down the stairs, she could hear the familiar sound of her mother’s favorite Frank Sinatra CD filling the house, the smell of bacon in the air. Her mom was singing along to “My Kind of Town.”

“Morning, Mom,” Betty greeted as she padded into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Elizabeth,” her mom smiled, mixing a healthy portion of scrambled eggs with seasoning. “Did you have fun last night?” She reached over to the countertop to turn down the volume on the speakers.

Betty nodded, stifling a yawn. She opened a cupboard to pick out a mug, helping herself to the pot of coffee her mother had brewed. “A girl from my English class invited me to a house party. She’s really nice.”

“Were a lot of people there?” Alice asked as she moved the bacon onto a plate. “Do you want any eggs? There are muffins in the oven.”

Betty poured milk into her coffee. “I’ll wait for the muffins,” she said, spooning sugar into her mug. “It was a big party, but we didn’t stay very long,” Betty admitted. 

She swiped a piece of bacon from the plate and followed her mom into the dining room.

“Why not?”

Betty took a sip of coffee. “We just weren’t really having fun, I guess. We were there for an hour and a half, maybe, and then went to Pop’s.”

Alice nodded. “I don’t mind you going out and having fun, Elizabeth, but don’t take advantage of that, okay? I don’t want drinking and partying to be your favorite extracurricular activity. I remember growing up here, there isn’t a whole lot to do.”

“I had one and a half ciders and less than half a beer. I promise, other things interest me.”

Alice nodded. “How’s school?” she asked, taking a bite of her eggs.

“It’s good. I have a nightmare of a teacher for History, but my project partner is pretty cool. He’s on the school paper, too.” She smiled.

“What’s his name?”

“Jughead Jones,” Betty smirked. “It’s a nickname, I’m not sure of his real name.”

“I wonder if he’s any relation to F.P. Jones. I went to high school with him. I think he married Gladys Mills,” she mused, taking a sip of her coffee.

Betty shrugged and grabbed another piece of bacon. “He hasn’t talked about his family. Do you work today?”

They continued in idle conversation for another ten minutes until the timer dinged to announce the muffins were ready. Betty topped up her coffee, took two muffins and settled back at the counter to eat.

After breakfast, Betty texted Veronica back. She promised she would see what she could do. Right away, Betty’s phone rang.

“Eager, are we?” Betty teased as she put the phone to her ear.

“I’ve got the best idea,” Veronica answered, her voice light and bubbly.

“What is it?” She plopped down on her bed, tucking her bunny slippers underneath her.

“You, Jughead, and tall, dark and handsome Sweet Pea come to my house tonight.”

“Are you really that infatuated with Sweet Pea?” Betty teased.

“He looks like everything I’ve been looking for since I arrived in Riverdale. He is in a league of his own… a flavor of his own, if you will.” She sighed. “So, will you ask Jughead?”

Betty laid back on her bed. “I’ll ask him. I can’t guarantee that he’ll say yes, though. And even if he does, I don’t know if Sweet Pea will.”

“Oh, they’ll say yes,” Veronica laughed. “I’ll see you at seven.”

… ~ …

Betty played with her pinky nail as she waited for Veronica to answer the door. Jughead had tentatively agreed and said he would meet her at Veronica’s with Sweet Pea in tow. 

Veronica opened the door, a smile playing on her lips. She held a fake coconut with an umbrella and a straw stuck inside, a lei of paper flowers around her neck. She was clad in a black bikini, a lace cover tied at her waist. “Welcome to my Luau!”

“Oh my god,” Betty laughed as she entered the doorway. “You really go all out, don’t you?”

“I do what I can,” Veronica smiled. “I have a bikini set out for you, by the way. The hot tub is warming.” 

The two of them walked down the hallway, which was painted a cool beige. It was free of family photos and felt very formal. They reached the kitchen, which was full of high tech appliances, but also felt more business-like than lived in.

“What about the guys?” Betty asked as she perched herself on a stool.

“Not here yet,” Veronica shrugged. She reached for a tray of fruit she had set out on the countertop. She popped a strawberry in her mouth, leaning forward against the marble.

“That’s not what I meant,” Betty laughed, taking a grape from the tray for herself. “What are they going to swim in?”

“They have boxers, don’t they?”

Betty rolled her eyes in response as Veronica grabbed a lei from the counter and put it around Betty’s neck. 

“You want some punch?” Veronica asked. She turned and grabbed another plastic coconut, spooning some of the red liquid into it before Betty had a chance to respond.

“Sure,” she laughed, just as the doorbell interrupted them. 

She handed it the coconut to Betty, who smiled. “Come in,” Veronica called toward the front door. She took a long sip of her drink, then gathered the last two lei’s in her hand.

Betty took a sip of her drink just as Jughead and Sweet Pea walked into the room, coughing and spluttering on the intense flavor. “Oh my god, what’s in this?” She croaked. 

“It’s Tiki Death Punch!” Veronica answered, as if that clarified. “It’s got white rum and dark rum and gold rum, watermelon, cranberry juice, strawberry, and kiwi.” 

Betty thrust her coconut toward Sweet Pea. “Way too much rum for me.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Sweet Pea accepted the coconut and took a sip, a smirk on his lips. “So, what do we have here?” His eyes swept the counter, taking in the food and drinks, then settling his eyes on Veronica. He looked her up and down, then looked into her eyes. “Looks like a buffet to me.”

“Oh, god,” Jughead muttered and took a seat next to Betty.

She turned to face him. “Welcome to the Luau!” Betty joked, raising her eyebrows. 

“What did you drag me into?” Jughead furrowed his eyebrows, but there was a smile on his lips. 

“Do you want some punch?” Betty asked, swinging her legs off the stool. 

“I don’t think I want something called Death Punch.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, brother!” Sweet Pea joked as Veronica placed his lei around his neck, bending at the middle so she could reach. 

“We also have water, La Croix, Diet Coke…” Veronica crossed to the island Betty and Jughead were sitting at, and placed Jughead’s lei around his neck.

“Thanks, Veronica,” Jughead said skeptically. “I’ll have a water.” He picked up a flower from the string to look at it more closely.

“And you, B?” She padded over to the refrigerator. 

“Diet Coke, thank you.” 

Veronica took them out of the fridge and put them down on the counter, then clapped her hands together. “So, boys, I was thinking we’d spend a little time in the hot tub. You down?”

“Hell yeah,” Sweet Pea agreed, taking another sip of his punch.

“I uh, don’t have anything to swim in.” Jughead mumbled and opened his water.

“Well, you could swim in your boxers,” Veronica said, hopping up on the edge of the counter. “Or, I could grab some trunks from Daddy’s closet.”

“I’m borrowing from Veronica,” Betty interjected. 

“So,” Veronica said, “Boxers or borrowed trunks?”

“Boxers,” Sweet Pea said at the same time that Jughead answered, “Borrowed trunks.”

Sweet Pea cocked an eyebrow.

“I need dry boxers, Pea. Going commando in jeans is no bueno.” 

Sweet Pea laughed and plucked a piece of fruit from the countertop. “You do you, bro, I’ll be in the hot tub.” He extended a hand to Veronica, who took it.

She hopped down from the island and turned to look at Betty. “Your bikini is on my bed and there’s extra trunks in the bathroom - I left them out, just in case - there’s towels in the closet. You don’t mind, do you, B? I’m just going to show Sweet Pea where the hot tub is.”

“Not at all,” Betty smiled as Veronica led Sweet Pea out the patio doors. As the door shut gently behind them, Betty gave Jughead an apologetic smile. “I didn’t know there would be hot tub shenanigans or I would’ve told you to bring a suit.”

Jughead shook his head. “Don’t sweat it. Borrowing Veronica’s dad’s swim trunks is definitely not going to be the weirdest part about this night.”

“Oh? What’s going to be the weirdest part about tonight?” Betty questioned as she slid off the stool. 

“Being here at all is pretty weird,” Jughead admitted, getting off his own stool. “I guess I judged Veronica without knowing her. I mean, we’ve gone to the same school for a couple years now and she always hung out with the popular crowd, so I figured she’d be just like them. But she seems pretty welcoming.”

The two of them walked through the living room. “I mean, I think she’s only using us to get to Sweet Pea,” Betty teased.

They walked up the carpeted stairs and gazed down the long hallway. Veronica’s bedroom was spotted easily, hues of purple and grey standing out through the open door

“I think you’re right,” Jughead laughed gently.. “Even so, she really doesn’t seem to judge a book by its cover. Most people are scared of Fangs and Pea because of the leather and metal. But the two of you…” Jughead dropped the sentence and smiled. He leaned against Veronica’s bedroom doorway. 

“Leather and metal are nothing to be scared of.” Betty smirked and raised an eyebrow. “I’ll meet you out here?” 

He nodded and made his way into the bathroom, a pair of black swim trunks resting on the granite counter. He slid his beanie off, then pulled his henley over his head and stared at himself in the mirror. The bruise on his back from the table was faded to a sickly green-yellow, the marks on his sides almost completely faded. _They may not notice those at all,_ he thought. The bruise on his arm was noticeable, of course, as were the scabbed cuts from his mother’s fingernails. 

He pulled down his pants and then his boxers, and slipped the pair of shorts up. They were just a touch too big, but luckily, they had drawstrings.

“Jug?” Betty called from the hallway. “How are they fitting?”

He took a breath and opened the bathroom door, not at all prepared for the vision in front of him. Betty had braided her hair loosely, tendrils falling out to frame her face. The red bikini Veronica had leant her was a little too small, and she was tugging the fabric to stay in place. One hand was wrapped around her middle, out of shyness or because of the temperature, Jughead wasn’t sure.

A sharp intake of breath shook him from his thoughts. “Jughead, your arm…” Betty’s delicate hand was on him, turning his arm over to inspect it. “What happened?”

He swallowed. “When I fell in the kitchen, my mom helped me up and she was none too gentle. Doesn’t know her own strength, that woman.” He tried to smile, but he was looking down.

“Jughead,” Betty said quietly, her hand still over the bruise. She waited until he looked up at her. She smoothed a loose curl away from his face. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

“I’m just clumsy, Bets.” He smiled gently, but it looked more like a grimace. “Scouts honor.”

Betty held his gaze, her warm hand still wrapped over his bruise. He could’ve sworn she was trying to remove all the hurt from his body.

“We should get out there, keep an eye on those two crazy kids.” Jughead said, turning to grab his beanie. “We need to get towels.”

 

They made their way to the hot tub, Jughead with towels in his hand, Betty with the fruit platter in hers. There was music playing quietly throughout the yard.

“Another reason people are scared of Sweet Pea; his taste in music.” Jughead murmured.

“This is a good song,” Betty countered, setting the fruit down on a wooden table. 

“You know Rob Zombie?” Jughead questioned, placing the stack of towels down on a matching chaise lounges. 

“Well, okay, I only know this song, but ‘Dragula’ is a classic.” Betty fixed the top of her bikini and walked along the deck, her feet bare.

“You are just full of surprises,” Jughead smiled, his long legs quickly matching her strides.

“I’m an open book, Jughead. Ask me anything,” she said gently. 

“What took you two so long?” Veronica called, standing in the hot tub, facing them. She tapped a few things into the control panel and made the jets bubble faster.

“We thought you wouldn’t mind getting to know each other,” Betty teased as she mounted the stairs to the hot tub.

“Oh we didn’t, just wondering if the two of you did a little getting to know each other of your own.” Veronica cocked an eyebrow.

“Subtlety, Princess, look it up.” Sweet Pea laughed from his corner of the hot tub.

Betty floated into her own corner of the tub, then leaned back as the water soothed her muscles and she closed her eyes. “So,” she said after a beat of silence. “What do you guys want to do after high school?”

Veronica was the first to speak. “I think I’m going to move back to NYC, probably go into business management.”

“I’ll probably stay in Riverdale, take over my dad’s bar on the Southside.” Sweet Pea said nonchalantly, then took a sip of his coconut.

Betty opened her eyes and saw the stars glowing in the dark sky. “Jughead? What about you?” 

“I want to move to the city, too,” he said quietly. “I want to work for the New York Times.”

Betty looked up. “That’s amazing, Jug. I’ve read some of your articles online. I can definitely see you working for the Times.”

“You can?” Jughead met her gaze and gave her a small smile.

“Of course,” she smiled back and rested her hand on top of Jughead’s.

“What about you? What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. I think about it a lot, but I guess I don’t want to pin myself down to one thing. I want to write and paint and help people and make a difference and maybe do photography on the side. And I want to travel, of course. I’m young and I’m healthy and I want to try a little bit of everything.”

“You should get to try everything,” Jughead nodded.

“Yeah, B. Don’t pin yourself down. That’s why I’m trying everything in high school.” Veronica smiled, letting herself float closer to Sweet Pea.

“Once you find something that fits just right, though, you should stick with it.” Sweet Pea purred, wrapping one of his large hands around Veronica’s stomach and pulled her onto his lap.

She squealed and raised her arm to keep her coconut above water, then wrapped the other around Sweet Pea’s neck. “You think I’m the right fit?”

“Maybe we’ll find out what kind of fit you are later,” Sweet Pea said as he ran a hand against Veronica’s jaw and pulled her face forward for a kiss.

“Oh, god, I’m getting out before you taint the water,” Jughead murmured as he moved toward the stairs.

“Yeah, I think we’ll leave you two alone.” Betty followed Jughead. “Have fun with your… test.” She blinked. “Jughead, walk me home?”

… ~ … 

“Will you come inside for a second, Jug? I’ve got that camera upstairs for the paper,” Betty said as they stopped before her house. 

“Yeah, of course,” Jughead started, following Betty toward her front door. 

The house was dark but warm and inviting, smelling of sugar and coffee. Betty flicked on the light in the hallway and slipped her shoes off. 

“Is your mom home?” Jughead questioned, lingering in the doorway.

“No, she’s at work. You can come in, you know.” Betty smiled. She padded into the dining room, then through to the kitchen. “Looks like she made cookies, do you want one?” she asked Jughead, who had followed her.

“I will never turn down a cookie,” he said, grabbing one off of the full plate. “Where’s the camera?”

“It’s in my room.” Betty grabbed a cookie for herself, then put the plate back on the counter. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?” 

“Now?” 

Betty giggled and grabbed Jugheads hand. “We left Veronica’s early, and I’m still wide awake." 

“Yeah, me too,” Jughead agreed. “Do you have anything good?” 

“All I own are good movies, Jughead, don’t you trust me?” Betty smiled and pulled him toward the staircase. 

“”Trusting you and trusting your taste in movies are two very different things,” he joked. “Hey, I’ve looked up a few things for the history project,” Jughead said as they walked up the stairs, Betty’s hand still clasped over his.

“I totally forgot about the history project. Maybe we should work on that sometime within the next few days?” 

“Yeah, we should,” Jughead agreed.

They reached the top of the landing and Betty dropped his hand as she entered the first doorway. “This is me,” she smiled, lingering in the open door.

“I did not take you for a pink paint kind of girl,” he smirked.

“No? What kind of girl did you take me for?”

He shrugged. “You’re a paradox, Bets. Half your walls should be covered in brass knuckles and the other should be covered in puppy posters.” Jughead smirked, very aware at how close he was standing to Betty.

“I prefer nunchucks and kittens, actually,” she smiled back, her tongue running over her bottom lip.

“Brass knuckles, nunchucks, whatever you choose. You’re still unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Is that a good thing?” Betty questioned, closing the small distance between them by reaching her hand up to play with the curl poking out from Jughead’s hat.

He swallowed visibly, his cheeks turning pink. “It’s a very good thing.”

“Juggie?” Betty murmured, her right hand resting against his shoulder.

“Yeah?” He was staring at her lips.

She pressed her lips against his, her fingers winding together at the back of his neck. She felt his hand against her jaw, his thumb under her chin, tilting it upward. She parted her lips, deepening the kiss. She ran her fingers upward, underneath his beanie, into his hair. 

Jughead’s hat fell off as Betty stepped back. She sighed and smiled, then opened her eyes. He was looking into them.

“Wow,” he breathed. 

“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever known, either.” She kissed him again quickly, a sweet exclamation mark on their evening. “You’re everything.” She turned, moving toward the camera sitting her desk.

Jughead quickly caught her arm to stop her. She turned, and he enveloped his lips over hers once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments mean everything.


	5. I'm Inside Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken me longer than usual to update; I've had a busy week and it's just getting busier from here. Thanks to elegantmoonchild for being the most wonderful beta and friend.

For the next two weeks, Betty and Jughead had set up a comfortable routine; Betty would bring them both coffee, a donut each, and would meet Jughead in the Blue and Gold’s office. She would press a quick, chaste kiss to Jughead’s lips. Jughead would express his thanks, showed her the pictures or ideas he had for the newspaper, and would talk idly until the first bell rang. Neither of them brought up the conversation they had at Veronica’s bathroom.

Betty was staring out the window at the darkening sky on Friday afternoon, waiting for the bell to finally ring. Mr. Howitzer was clearing his throat at the front of the classroom a moment later. “This is a reminder that your projects are due in two weeks. This is worth a lot of your grade, people, don’t hand me anything that belongs in the trash. I’ll see you on Monday.” 

“Shit,” Jughead mumbled. “I totally forgot about that thing, I’ve been writing too many articles for the paper.” 

“I found a couple books at the library, but I haven’t written anything. Do you think we could get together this weekend?”

“My dad’s supposed to come home this weekend,” Jughead smiled. “I could probably do something tonight, though. Maybe you could come to my place?”

Betty smiled. “Yeah, that would be great.” She gathered her notebook and textbook in her arms. “What does your dad do?”

They walked out of the classroom, the full hallway pressing them closer together

“He’s a truck driver. He’s on the road almost all year long, he does the long hauls. I miss him a lot, but the money is good. He always says he could get a job closer to home, maybe even in town, but -” He stops himself short, then sighs. “Mom says the money’s too good to pass up.”

“Your mom works too, though, right?”

Jughead nodded. They reached his locker and he played with his lock. “She waitresses at Tiffany’s. They don’t do as well as Pop’s, but they serve alcohol, so they’ve got that. She’s worked there for years, though. They treat her pretty well.” He pulled his lock and it popped open, so he placed his books inside.

“Tiffany’s? I’ve never heard of it.” They continued walking until the reached Betty’s locker.

“Probably because it’s on the southside. It’s pretty close to the Whyte Wyrm. She worked at the Wyrm when she was a teenager.”

Betty nodded. “Is your Mom’s last name Mills?”

Jughead furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “How did you know that?”  
“I was telling my Mom about how welcoming you were, and when I said your last name was Jones, she mentioned Gladys Mills.”

“You said your Mom lived here as a teenager, right?”

Betty stopped at her locker and readjusted her books. “Yeah, lived here for a while until moving upstate.” She turned the dial to enter her combination, then opened the lock. 

“Alice Cooper?”

Betty shook her head as she placed her books inside. “That was her married name. Smith is her maiden name. I think she went by Allie.” She turned to shut her locker. “I’m supposed to meet Veronica in the cafeteria for lunch. You want to come?” She reached out to smooth Jughead’s curl against his beanie.

“I’ve got something to work on in the Blue and Gold office. But thanks,” He smiled. “I’ll see you at my house around seven? Can you bring your laptop?”

Betty smiled and nodded. “Yeah, sounds good. Text me your address.” She reached for his hand and squeezed. “I’ll see you.”

… ~ …

“I met his parents already,” Veronica said dramatically as she bit into a stalk of celery.

“Sweet Pea’s?” Betty dragged a french fry through a circle of ketchup, then into the splat of mayonnaise beside it. “Are you guys officially dating or something?”

Veronica shook her head. “No, not exactly. I was at his house yesterday and his parents invited me to stay for dinner when they saw us together in the basement. Luckily, they didn’t catch me on his lap.”

Betty laughed. “Are they nice?”

“They were… not at all what I expected. His mother kept calling him Samuel, and he was so polite with them. A different side to Sweet Pea. But very nice, yes. His mom was a school teacher before she was diagnosed with M.S.”

“Oh my gosh.”

“His dad opened a bar on the south side when Sweet Pea was ten, and it does well. His dad said it’s not his favorite thing, but it pays the bills.”

“Sounds like you learned a lot about his family.” Betty swirled another french fry through her concoction. 

“I did. Honestly, B, he’s not like anyone I’ve ever met.” Veronica closed her empty container of vegetables and cracked open her bottle of sparkling water.

“It’s these southside boys, I’m telling you,” Betty smirked.

“Did you and Jughead finally talk about the kiss?”

“No,” Betty sighed, pushing her tray away. “I don’t know how to bring it up.”

“Just kiss him again, and then talk about it afterward.” Veronica suggested, stealing a fry from Betty’s forgotten plate.

“I don’t care if we don’t have a label. I just don’t want it to be weird between the two of us.”

“Then don’t let it get weird.”

“Sage advice, Veronica Lodge.”

… ~ …

Betty smoothed her hair behind her ears and sighed. She hated being this girl. She wasn’t this girl. Yet here she was, dozens of vetoed outfits on the bed, shoes pulled out of the closet, hair yanked into and out of different styles for the past twenty minutes. It was just studying, for Christ’s sake, so why was she agonizing over it?

She wanted to remind him of the night of their first kiss. She wanted to remind him that he thought of her as the girl that was a mix of brass knuckles and puppy posters. She was vanilla and cinnamon. She was apples and sea salt. A strange mix, but it worked.

She sighed and put her hair in a ponytail, then changed back into the outfit she wore to school that day. She packed the books she got from the library into her backpack, followed by her laptop and charger. She took one last look at herself in the mirror before throwing the backpack over her shoulder and leaving her bedroom. 

As she descended the stairs, she took in all the framed photographs on the walls and wondered what Jughead’s home would be like. Would his parents be anything like Sweet Pea’s? Would his mother call him by his real name?

She thought again of the bruises that had littered his skin. She tried to push the thoughts away, wanting to believe Jughead’s excuses. She hadn’t seen any fresh marks in the past few weeks, after all. Maybe he was telling the truth.

Betty scribbled a note for her mother - she never checked her cell phone - and threw a few cookies into a ziplock bag, shoved her earbuds in her ears, and was out the front door.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Betty was standing on Jughead’s doorstep. She pulled one earbud out to listen to the rain splatter on the concrete around her. The sound was soothing, especially listening to the water hitting the leaves on the trees. She turned to admire the puddles in the street just as the door opened.

“God, Bets, I’m so sorry you had to walk in the rain,” Jughead muttered, ushering her inside.

“Don’t be,” she beamed, pulling the hood from her hair. “This is my favorite type of weather.” She pulled off her shoes and shrugged the backpack from her shoulders.

He blinked. “Seriously?”

She laughed as she set her backpack down. She pulled the laptop and books from her bag, then rezipped it. “Yeah, seriously.” She took off her coat and set it on a row of hooks which was already covered in jackets and sweaters.

“Why?” Jughead wrinkled his nose.

The two of them entered a small living room, painted a peeling, faded yellow. There was a large painting hanging on the wall of eerie looking leafless trees and stagnant water. There was one picture of Jughead’s parents on their wedding day, but she noticed there were none of Jughead. 

“It’s calming. You can step out into the rain and it’s like a purification process. It’s mysterious and ethereal. You can’t get any better than that.”

“Do you really see the good in everything?” Jughead asked, dropping onto his couch lightly.

Betty shrugged. “I try, I guess,” she said quietly. 

“I always saw rain as depressing. Grey skies, lightning, thunder.”

“It’s the perfect weather for staying inside. Reading, cuddling, tea, movie marathons. Dark skies outside. What better excuse?” Betty sat lightly beside him, curling her feet underneath her.

“What about when you need to get out of the house?” He was looking down.

“No better weather to get lost in. Especially when there’s fog - it feels like you could disappear.”

“And why would you of all people want to disappear?” Jughead’s eyebrows furrowed and he set the laptop gently on the ground.

Betty took a deep breath. “My mom found out that my dad had been cheating on her for about six months. She walked in on him, and he didn’t seem sorry in the slightest. More that… she was stupid for not figuring it out earlier. She didn’t think twice about leaving him, but the divorce was really hard. My sister Polly is away at school, anyway, so she didn’t have to her mom crying at night. But for me, being stuck there in the middle of it was horrible. My mom was crushed. They thought they’d built this life together, but she came to realize it had basically been a lie. So, she moved back to where she’d grown up and of course I came with her. It was hard to move away from everything I’d known, but I didn’t want to stay with my dad. She works all hours, because she’s a nurse, but she’s been really great through all this. I just hope that I can help her. She won’t talk to me about it.”

“God, Bets, that’s awful. I’m sorry that your father could do that.” He placed his hands over hers, his thumb gliding in soft circles on her palm.

“Thank you. It’s been hard for me just to be around it, so I can’t even imagine what’s going on in my moms head.” She bit her lip. “Why do you want to disappear?”

“It’s just… Riverdale, you know? I guess when this is the only town you’ve been in your whole life, it feels like it’s the be all end all. Before you got here… I was invisible at school. Or worse, it was like I was the shit on the bottom of their shoes. It’s hard when your only friends go to a different school.”

Betty nodded. “That must be really hard. And you said your mom won’t let you go to a school on the south side, right?”

“She moved to this house, specifically, to make sure that wouldn’t happen. I couldn’t ask her.”

Betty was silent for a moment. “Well, you have me, now. And Veronica, I know she can be… a lot, but she’s your friend.” She smiled at him. “Hey, where are your parents?” 

He shrugged. “They’re not back yet. Sometimes my dad’s last run takes later than he says he’ll be.”

Betty nodded, distracted by his beauty. She was studying the moles on his skin, his long eyelashes, how blue and white had mixed perfectly to make the icy shade of his irises.

“What?” Jughead’s lips turned into a slight smile. “What’s up?”

Betty breathed deeply, her finger still tickling the underside of his palm. She scooted forward, closer to him. We should talk about our kiss after the party, she thought. We should be kissing more often. We should go kiss outside in the rain. 

Jughead reached out, his hand cupping her jaw line, pulling her closer. His fingers splayed against her cheek, his thumb resting on her bottom lip. 

Betty’s tongue flicked out, over Jughead’s thumb, tasting him. He pulled her even closer until his lips were enveloping hers. She smiled into the kiss, happy that they were finally alone and doing this again. She pressed her lips into his, thinking vaguely that he tasted of honey.

She pressed herself as close to him as she could get, wanting to feel all of him. Her hand was playing in Jughead’s hair, fingers twisting in the mess of waves. She deepened the kiss and ran her fingers down, feeling the warm skin of his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt, gripping his back. She felt Jughead’s tongue enter her mouth and she couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her. She broke the kiss momentarily to push her cardigan off her shoulders, then peppered kisses against Jughead’s neck.

She reattached herself to Jughead’s lips, her eyes nearly rolling back in her head when he did something with his teeth that could only be described as euphoric. She hitched one knee over Jughead’s lap when he pulled back.

“Wait, wait,” he breathed.

“What’s wrong?” She asked as she straddled his lap.

“Nothing, God, no, nothing’s wrong, Bets.” He stumbled over his words. “I just - this is amazing, and I don’t want it to stop because my parents walk in on us. That wouldn’t be good.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed, sitting down next to him. “Maybe we should focus on studying for History.”

Jughead nodded. “Do you want some water? I feel like I need hydration,” he laughed.

Betty giggled. “Water would be wonderful. I’ll fire up some websites.” She reached for her laptop on the ground, then placed it on the coffee table in front of her.

As the laptop started, she heard Jughead fumbling in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboard doors. He then ran the tap as Betty pulled up Google to search for facts they could use in their project. 

As Jughead sat back next to her, handing her the glass of water, they heard the front door swing open with a loud thud.

“Well, he’s not coming!” Jughead’s mother announced as she entered the front door. 

Jughead could smell the scent of liquor instantaneously. He took a deep breath, not knowing whether to announce their company or keep quiet, hopefully keeping her safe under the radar.

He heard her fumble in their tiny hallway. “That fucker picked up another load, closer to him than the exit home was. Again! Do you know how many months it’s been since I’ve seen him?” She paused. “Jughead, I’m talking to you!”

“I’m in here, Mom, working on a project. With someone from school.” He tried to sound aloof, not caring that his mother had just come home, drunk off her ass, at seven o’clock in the evening. 

He heard her cross the short distance into the living room. She stood in the doorway, her shirt askew and her hair a mess. “The fuck do you think you’re doing, Jughead?”

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed, genuine confusion crossing his face.

She stared at him, her eyes narrowing, focusing on Betty’s cardigan on the ground, at Jughead’s tousled hair and swollen lips. “You bring home some slut to fool around with on the night your father was supposed to come home? What’s wrong with you?” Her lip was turned up into a scowl. “Don’t play dumb with me, boy.” 

Gladys stumbled to the kitchen and opened the fridge, then slammed it closed a second later. Betty heard the hiss and pop of what she assumed was the opening of a beer can. She was pressed into the corner of the couch, shrinking herself as small as possible, still blinking in shock. She tried to grab her sweater and pull it around her shoulders before Jughead’s mom came back in the room. 

Jughead stood as Gladys came back in the room, beer in hand. “Mom, don’t do this.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do, you worthless piece of shit.” She pushed past him, knocking him off balance.

Jughead took a deep breath and stepped forward, towards her. “Maybe you’ve had enough to drink, Mom.”

Gladys narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?” She laughed humorlessly. “Do you think you’re a big man now that your little girlfriend is around?” She turned and looked at Betty, who was still staring at the scene, eyes wide. “You better run far away, little girl, because he’s going to die in the gutters of this God forsaken town and he’ll drag you down with him.”

Jughead reached forward for the beer, causing Gladys to smack him across the face with the back of her hand. 

“You make me sick,” she spat, then turned on her heel and stepped back into the small hallway. “I’m going to the Wyrm,” she muttered, then slammed the door behind her.

Betty was up off the couch instantaneously as Jughead stared at the empty doorway, his hand clutching his cheek. She didn’t say a word as she wrapped her hands around Jughead’s crumbling body. She clutched him as tightly as she could, pulling him into her lap as they both melted onto the living room floor. He placed his head in the crook of Betty’s neck, silent sobs wracking his body.

“She’s wrong,” Betty murmured, placing a light kiss on the top of Jughead’s hair. “You’re smart. You’re going to go to the city and become a writer for the Times. You’re so loving, Jughead. You’re persistent and welcoming and admirable. You’re kind and honest and so funny. You’re respectful and compassionate and courageous and fair. You’re everything.” She ran her thumb against his back, over and over. “It’s okay.” She promised.

She sat there with him as he cried, shadows crossing the floor as the sun went down, wishing more than anything that she could take him away from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos mean everything.


	6. You're Underneath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm so sorry that this has taken me longer than usual to update! Thank you to everyone who is continuing to read. Special shout-out to Sam (elegantmoonchild) for being the best beta and to emowhofromwhoville on Insta for giving my fic a little shout-out (: 
> 
> Without further ado, chapter six!

Betty woke up the next morning with her eyes swollen and her throat on fire. She didn’t know how long she had been sitting with Jughead on his living room floor, cradling his head as he sobbed into her shoulder. She barely remembered peppering kisses against his temples, his palms, anywhere she could manage to try to heal the hurt. Eventually, he calmed and promised her he would be okay, but that she should go before his mother returned.

When she got home, she threw herself onto her bed and weeped until her throat was raw and her eyes were dry. In the early hours, she changed into a pair of cotton shorts and Jughead’s sweater and crawled into bed, hoping for sleep. She might’ve gotten two hours in between her tossing and turning and her mind pulling Gladys’ screaming words back to the forefront.

Now, she sighed and pulled herself from her bed, conceding that more sleep just wasn’t going to come. She trudged to the bathroom and showered, hoping that the hot water would refresh her and rid her of the memories from last night.

When she was finished it was still dark out, the sun not yet having risen. She pulled a pair of yoga pants on and her favorite oversized t-shirt, then her bunny slippers, before padding down the stairs. She pulled her phone out and turned on one of her favorite albums, the volume low as to not wake her mother, then pulled a tin of coffee from the refrigerator. She scooped it into the coffee maker, filled it with water, and hopped up on the countertop to wait.

Betty checked her text notification from last night and read a message from Veronica. 

**You up for a triple date with me and Pea tonight?** The message read, time stamping it at 3:30 this morning. 

Betty sighed and set her phone back down, thoughts of last night rushing back to her. Gladys’ hand striking down on Jughead’s cheek, her dark eyes staring daggers at them both. The words she spat with hatred. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, willing herself not to cry again. 

She hopped down from the counter and opened the fridge, peering inside. When she wanted to take her mind off things, she cleaned or baked. Seeing as it was barely five in the morning, she decided baking was the better option. 

She pulled bananas out of the freezer, then gathered the eggs and milk from the fridge. She turned to pour herself a cup of coffee, put on her favorite Hozier song, and got to work. 

… ~ …

After the banana bread had come out of the oven, she worked on a batch of walnut pear muffins to freeze. Just as they were coming out of the oven, her mom shuffled into the kitchen.

“Why are you up so early?” Alice yawned, gathering her robe around her waist.

Betty shrugged. “This project I’m working on has me sort of stressed. We’ve barely started it and it’s due pretty soon.” 

“Well, you still need to make sure you’re getting enough rest, Elizabeth. How’s that partner of yours, is he taking his fair share of the workload?” She opened the cupboard closest to the fridge and took out a mug for coffee.

“Yeah, he’s doing what he can. He’s got a lot going on right now,” Betty answered quietly.

“It’s that Jones boy, right?” She squirted a dollop of honey into her coffee and stirred.

Betty nodded,swallowing the lump in her throat. “That’s him.” She trudged over to the coffee pot and refilled her mug.

“Did you ever find out if Gladys Mills is his mother?”

“Yeah, she is.” She was quiet for a second. “What was she like in high school? Did you know her?”

“Not very well.” Alice took a sip of her coffee. “I know she lived with her dad and he died while she was in school. She had to stay with an uncle, I think. She didn’t have a very good attendance record, but she and I were never in any classes together. I was surprised to hear F.P. married her. He was the football star, million dollar smile, pretty popular.” She shrugged. “Why do you ask, honey?”

“I’m just curious,” Betty smiled. “You want some banana bread?”

… ~ ...

It was lunch time before Betty answered Veronica, telling her she’d ask Jughead and let her know.

When Jughead still hadn’t answered her by dinner, she had to ask Veronica for a rain check and apologized. 

It was almost ten o’clock when Jughead finally answered her text. **Sorry Bets. See you at school.**

… ~ ...

Sunday was a long day. Betty woke up at six thirty and threw herself into the History project. She sent Jughead two text messages that went unanswered, made a massive pot of macaroni and cheese for dinner, and drank a cider after her mom went to work. She watched Seven Pounds so she could cry, and went to bed at eight.

… ~ …

He wasn’t in the Blue and Gold office on Monday morning. Betty waited, drinking her coffee and trying today’s speciality donut (“It’s lemon and raspberry curd! A must try!” the perky lady at the counter told her) as she worked on her latest article. When the warning bell rang, she placed his donut (a peanut butter cream, his favorite) on top of his coffee lid, just in case he was running late.

 

When she still hadn’t seen him at lunch, she began to gnaw on her nails. 

“Betty? What’s wrong? I know you’re not a nail biter.” Veronica asked, spearing a red pepper with her fork.

Betty sighed and looked and her fingers, then dropped her hands into her lap. “Nothing, it’s just my history project. I’m worried about it.”

“Come on, B, we haven’t known each other for too long, but I know you better than that. You look worried as hell. It’s not about a project.”

Betty picked up her bottle of water and took a sip. She put the cap back on painfully slowly, then looked Veronica in the eye. “It’s not the project.”

Veronica nodded. “I know.” She took another bite of salad. “What is it?” She prompted.

Betty bit her lip. “I don’t think I can tell you.” She ran her hand through her hair.

“Betty, you can trust me.” Veronica said as she ran her hand across the table and squeezed Betty’s reassuringly. 

“I know I can,” Betty nodded. “It’s just… not really about me. It’s not mine to tell.”

“I can appreciate that, but it looks like it’s eating you up inside. I’m here when you do want to talk.”

“Thanks, Veronica.” Betty gave her a weak smile. 

“Well, what do we have here?” Reggie interrupted, a wicked smile appearing on his lips as he stared down at their intertwined hands. 

Archie stood behind him, looking sheepish.

Veronica stood, gathering her tray. “Was one black eye not enough for you, Reggie?” She said loudly. “Do you want us to make it a matching set? Please, take your misogynistic ass elsewhere because we’re through with your fuckery.” Veronica pushed past him. “Come on, B.”

… ~ …

Finally, when Betty sat down in History class, Jughead was there. He had a faint red mark on his cheek, but otherwise looked unscathed. He was wearing a blue flannel shirt and Betty wondered briefly if it smelled as good as the sweater he let her borrow.

She sat down next to him and he smiled weakly. “Sorry I missed you this morning,” he murmured.

She felt herself exhale a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. “It’s okay. Did you make it to the office?” 

He nodded. “The donut was delicious. Thank you.” He sat up a bit straighter.

She splayed her fingers over his, which were resting underneath the table on his lap. “Was the rest of your night… okay? I was worried about you.”

He brushed his hair up and away from his face, causing her hand to drop. “It was fine, Bets. I’m fine.” 

It was then that Mr. Howitzer pulled a map down forcefully at the front of the room, clearing his throat and pointing towards Italy with his bony finger.

For the next hour, he droned on about Mussolini and the terrors he inflicted. When the bell finally rang, Jughead gathered his books and gave Betty a small smile. 

“Maybe we should work on our project in the office, since we… haven’t really gotten anything done,” he said as they made their way into the hall.

Betty gave him a nod. “I actually have a free period next. Ms. Haggly is sick and they couldn’t find a substitute. Do you want to go there now, maybe we can talk?”

Jughead shrugged and followed Betty out of class. They were both silent as they walked the halls. They entered the Blue and Gold Office one after the other, and Betty tried to will away the tears that pricked her eyes as she shut the door behind them, the memories from Friday night rushing back to her. 

“Jughead,” she cleared her throat. “I think… I think we need to talk about Friday night.”

Jughead shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, yeah. We didn’t get much of our project done and-”

“No,” Betty interrupted. “You know that’s not what I mean.” Tears were welling in her eyes now, threatening to spill over.

“Betty, don’t. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He squared his jaw.

“I know what I saw, Jughead, and I know what I’ve been seeing for weeks now. The bruises, the hurt in your eyes. I had a feeling, Jughead, but then I saw it with my own eyes and I can’t just sit here and pretend -”

“Stop,” he cut her off.

“I can’t! Jughead, you need to tell someone. We need to tell someone! She’s hurting you!”

“Betty, I’m fine. She’s just stressed with my dad gone. She works long days, and I piss her off, and she just lets out steam. You’re making it into a way bigger deal than it needs to be.” He looked down at the floor, at the smudge on his shoe, anywhere but her face.

She took a step forward. “It took me a while to figure out who I am, Jughead. Who you are when you’re alone is completely different than who you are when you’re with your friends, or with your family. When I’m alone, I’m fine with who I am. But when I’m with you, it feels like… I’m myself, but even better. I’m myself tenfold. Like you complete the last piece of the puzzle, Jughead. And I know we haven’t known each other that long, but it’s starting to feel like I’ve known you all my life. Something just feels right when we’re together.” She reached for his hand. “I want you to be in my life for a long time, Jughead, but -” she took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that welled in her eyes. “- I feel like if you don’t tell someone about your mother, then that might not be able to happen.”

He shook his head and dropped his hand from her grip. “You still don’t get it, do you? I’m going to stay here, in Riverdale, my whole life. I’m going to live in the gutters and sponge off everyone around me. I’m not going to have any great adventures in my life, I’m not that last piece of your puzzle, Betty Cooper. I’m just lowly Jughead Jones, trying to get by, under the radar. Don’t make me your charity case. Let’s just finish the project. We’ll co-write the Blue and Gold for credits on our last year of high school, and then you’ll be free of Riverdale, and can go and do all of the amazing things you have planned for yourself.” He dropped his gaze, took a deep breath and turned on his heel. “Please, just mind your own business, Betty.” 

She could hear his footsteps echoing as he left the room. Her chin wobbled with the effort of holding back her tears before she let them fall freely down her cheeks.

… ~ … 

Betty decided to walk past her house after she left school that day. She thought some fresh air would help clear her head, but as the song changed to something sad, she only felt her mood darken.

She took a left, not really noticing what neighborhood she was entering, until eventually she found herself looking up at the brightly lit Pop’s sign. She sighed and pushed the front door open.

She pulled the earbud out of her left ear so that she could hear properly. She sidled up to the counter where Pop was wiping a glass and gave him a small smile when he looked up at her. 

“What can I get you, Betty dear?” Pop asked. He placed the glass on the counter beneath him and slung the cloth over his shoulder.

“I’ll have a strawberry milkshake, please.” She dug a couple dollars out of her pocket and slid them across the counter.

“Coming right up.”

Betty nodded and sat on the stool closest to her, dropping her backpack to the floor. She dug her phone out of it’s pocket and stared at her messages. Nothing new, and her fingers hovered over her conversation with Jughead, trying to decide if she should send him something or leave him be.

Pop handed her milkshake over a few moments later and she graciously accepted. Just as she was about to put her earphone back in its place, she heard her name.

“Yo, Betty!” Another call came from the opposite end of the diner. 

She turned, her heart leaping for just a moment until she realized it hadn’t been Jughead. 

“C’mere!” Sweet Pea called, his arms spanning the entire back of the booth he was seated in.

Betty grabbed her milkshake and her backpack and trudged over to where Sweet Pea was seated with Fangs and a girl with pink streaks in her hair.

“Have a seat,” Sweet Pea offered, scooching closer to the window to give her a bit more room. “Are you skipping school? ‘Cause I didn’t take you for that kind of girl,” he inquired as she plopped down, taking a sip from her milkshake.

She took a sip from her milkshake. “I had a free period and I just couldn’t stand being at school any more, y’know?”

“Yeah, we know,” he laughed. He pulled a french fry from the basket in front of him and dragged it through a splotch of ketchup.

“I’m Toni, by the way. Neither of these guys have any manners.” The girl with the pink hair said as she elbowed Fangs in the ribs.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Betty.”

“I would’ve gotten there eventually, shorty, relax,” Fangs interjected.

Toni made a face at him and reached forward to steal a french fry. Betty took another long sip of her milkshake, not quite sure of what to say.

“I’m surprised Jughead didn’t follow you here,” Sweet Pea laughed. “He still at school?”

Betty swallowed hard. “Yeah, as far as I know. He didn’t have a free period.” She tried to smile.

“You okay, blondie?” Sweet Pea’s eyebrows furrowed. 

_No_ , Betty thought. She smiled at him as convincingly as she could. “I’m okay. Tell me about Veronica meeting your parents, Pea, I’m dying to know more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments mean the world.


	7. I've Got Two Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update!! Please enjoy and I promise the next chapter won't take me so long to put out.

Betty walked into school on Tuesday morning with two coffees and two donuts as usual. When she made her way to the Blue and Gold office, there was a figure with dark hair waiting in the doorway.

“Hey, V. What are you doing here?” Betty asked, exhaustion weighing on her voice. 

Veronica spun on her heel, arms crossed. “Sweet Pea told me that you guys had a little chat last night.” 

Betty walked past her into the office, meaning to set the tray of coffee and box of donuts down. “Okay, so?” Her eyebrows knit together, confusion setting in. She hadn’t slept very well last night.

“ _So_ , Sweet Pea noticed you were a little off, too, Betty and I know you can’t talk about it right now, but I want you to know I’m here.” 

Veronica crossed the short distance between them and grabbed the tray of coffee from Betty’s hands and set it down on the desk closest to them. She wrapped her hands around Betty’s shoulders and pulled her in for a hug, wisps of Betty’s hair delicately tickling Veronica’s cheek as she did so.

When she pulled back, there were tears welling in Betty’s eyes. “You have to promise not to tell anyone, Ronnie, okay?” She said quietly.

A small puff of air escaped Veronica’s lips and she nodded, not knowing what to say. “I-I promise.” She murmured after a moment.

“Can you close the door, please?” Betty dragged a chair away from the desk and dropped herself into it as Veronica shut the Blue and Gold office door.

“What does Jughead take in his coffee, anyway? I had to wake up at an ungodly hour and I could really use a pick-me-up,” Veronica said, trying to relieve a little tension. 

“You can have mine,” Betty smiled despite herself. “I don’t think I could stomach it today, anyway.”

Veronica plucked the coffee that had BETTY scribbled across it out of the carrier and brought it over to where Betty sat, pulling the chair closest to where they were standing, with her. 

“Okay,” Betty breathed. “I just can’t keep this to myself anymore, V.” Her chin trembled.

“I know, and I’m here for you. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Betty closed her eyes. “When I first met Jughead, I noticed… I noticed a lot of bruises on him. And he told me they were from his clumsiness and even though I had this gut feeling that he wasn’t telling me the truth, I tried not to push it. But, when I was there on the weekend, I witnessed it, V. I saw his mom hitting him. And when I tried to talk to him about it yesterday, he -” Betty bit her lip, trying to keep her emotions in check. “He thinks he’s worthless because that’s all he’s ever known and he deserves so much better. He needs to get away from her, Veronica, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to help him.” 

“Girl, you _are_ helping him. You’re not staying silent, you’re not letting him go through this alone. You only want the best for him, you care about him, you’re desperately trying to show him how amazing he is. I’m so sorry you’re going through this, but I promise I’ll help you figure something out, okay?” Veronica reached out and grabbed Betty’s hand.

“Thank you, Ronnie.” Betty whispered. 

“Anytime,” Veronica smiled and stood, taking a sip of Betty’s coffee. “Do you have any work to do on the paper before first period?”

Betty sniffed and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I just have to enter an article. Save me a seat at lunch?”

“Of course.” She made her way to the door and flipped the latch.

“Hey, Veronica? Try not to act weird if you see him, okay?”

…~...

After her first class, Betty spent a free period working in the library on her and Jughead’s history project. She had gotten about half of it done in the past few days, unsure if Jughead had worked on it at all since they hadn’t spoken.

It was a heavy topic that didn’t help lighten her mood in the slightest, but it had to be done.  
As she finished adding information about the memorial structure made by Nandor Glid, she checked her watch, deciding to save her work on the complimentary school computer, since the bell was about the signal it was time for lunch.

When she stood, she noticed Jughead, his back toward her in a corner table, facing the window. He had a pair of headphones over his beanie and he was scribbling wildly in a notebook.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she was moving toward his table, her notebook tucked under her arm. She touched his shoulder since she knew he wouldn’t hear her if she spoke. He jerked under her grip and whipped his head around, his shoulders visibly relaxing when he met her gaze.

There was a fresh bruise just below his temple. She tried not to stare. “Sorry if I startled you, Juggie,” she murmured, her fingers itching to play with the spiral of her notebook. “I just wanted to let you know I’ve done some work on the Dachau project.”

He cussed under his breath. “I completely forgot. I never meant for all the work to fall on you. Let me know what I can do.”

“Did Mr. Smith not show up again?” Betty asked, trying to keep him talking. She shifted her weight to the other foot before finally deciding to sit in the chair across from Jughead.

Jughead shrugged. “I just didn’t feel like going.”

“Won’t you get detention for that?”

Jughead chewed on his bottom lip. “Doesn’t matter. My mom took off for a bit, so she won’t know anyway.”

“Where’d she go, Jug?” Betty breathed. She placed her notebook on the table and curled her fingers into her palms.

He shrugged again. “She does this sometimes. She’ll just leave for a day, sometimes two or three, never lets me know when she’s leaving, where she’s going, when she’s coming back.” He tried to smile. “It’s like a holiday for me.”

Betty shook her hands under the table, loosening her grip before she could break the skin. _Breathe_ , she reminded herself. “Did she get mad at you before she left?”

“What?” Jughead asked, his nonchalant facade dropping from his face.

Betty reached out and touched his fresh bruise. “Did she get mad?” She whispered, her fingers splaying on his skin.

“Oh,” Jughead murmured as Betty’s feather light touch played on his fresh bruise. He pulled back just enough so her fingers were no longer touching him. “It’s nothing,” He lied.

Betty dropped her hands into her lap and curled her fingertips into her palms without thinking. “It’s not nothing, Juggie.”

Jughead sighed and pushed his chair back. “You can’t just leave it alone, can you?” He closed his notebook and grabbed for his pen as Betty caught his wrist lightly.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She urged, her eyes locking with his.

She watched his eyes soften for just a moment before she dropped her hand and he turned to walk away from their table.

…~...

Betty walked home from school, her hand shoved deep in her pockets, one hand gripping her cellphone as music was fed through her earbuds. It was briefly interrupted by a soft bing! sound and she pulled it out of her pocket expectantly.

 **Can you meet me at Pop’s, please?!** It read, followed by a redundant signature: **xoV.** Betty was almost home, but turned right instead of left and was on her way to Pop’s.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Betty was entering the doors of Pop’s Choc’lit Shoppe, expecting a fairly empty diner with Veronica waiting for her at the countertop. What she encountered, however, was Sweet Pea sitting with Veronica in a booth.

“Don’t be mad,” Veronica rushed out as soon as Betty got to their table.

Betty took a breath before answering. “Why would I be mad?”

“I told Pea.” Veronica blinked up at Betty and pulled her half empty milkshake towards her. “I had to.”

Betty’s face crumpled. “Veronica, I trusted you.”

“Hear me out,” Veronica said as Betty dropped onto the pleather covered seat across from her.

Betty cocked her eyebrow in response. She didn’t want to say anything that she would regret.

“Well firstly, Pea already knew something was up when I sat down. He guessed that it was something to do with why you were so off yesterday.” Veronica took a sip of her milkshake.

“I specifically asked you not to say anything, V.” Betty huffed, crossing her arms.

“I know, but -” Veronica stopped herself as Pop Tate came to their table and set a vanilla malt in front of Betty. “Thanks, Pop.” Veronica smiled as he walked away. “I took the liberty of ordering you that. So, anyway, I figured Sweet Pea might be more of a help than a hindrance, Betty. He’s known Jughead since he was little.”

Betty sighed, put her head in her hands and groaned. 

“Are you mad at me?” Veronica, murmured.

Betty lifted her head. “No.” She turned to Sweet Pea. “You can’t tell him that you know, though, okay? He’s already barely speaking to me.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “I’m kind of ashamed I didn’t notice anything earlier. I should talk to Fangs about it, since his old man used to hit him before he moved in with his grandparents.” 

“Please, Pea, don’t say anything to Fangs. Not yet.” Betty scrubbed at her face before she took a sip of her milkshake. 

Sweet Pea waited a moment before he spoke. “Veronica said you… you actually saw Gladys hit him?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It was pretty awful - he and I were studying and she came home, I think she had been drinking, and she just started yelling at him. He tried to tell her to stop and she just smacked the hell out of him.” She sighed. “I had noticed bruises, but I wanted to believe him when he told me it was nothing.”

Veronica slid the hand that wasn’t holding Sweet Pea’s across the table and gripped Betty’s hand. “You know there’s nothing you could’ve done, even if you had said something sooner, right? You haven’t known him that long, B.”

“I guess, yeah. I just want him to know he’s not alone.”

“What did he say when you brought it up, blondie?” Sweet Pea grabbed for some french fries that sat on a plate in front of him. The smell of grease was causing Betty’s stomach to churn.

“Basically, he told me to mind my own business. To leave him alone.”

“Is that the last time you saw him?”

Betty shook her head. “I saw him today in the library at school. He said his Mom was gone, but he was still pretty pissed at me.”

“Gone?” Veronica asked, sipping at her drink.

Betty shrugged. “Apparently she just leaves sometimes.”

“Text him and tell him you’re sorry.” Sweet Pea said as he swirled a french fry through a blob of ketchup.

“What?” Veronica said at the same time as Betty, a look of shock coloring Veronica’s face.

“I’m not sorry,” Betty said quietly.

“You don’t need to be sorry, but if you tell him you are, it might help his pride a little bit - he needs to feel like he’s the one with some leverage, you know? First he’s being abused at home, and then you witness him being abused when it’s his secret to keep. So he probably feels like he’s got no choice in anything going on in his life.”

Betty nodded. “So I text him and tell him I’m sorry for… for butting in?”

Sweet Pea nodded. “You could try it.”

Betty sighed and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, typed a simple **I’m sorry** to Jughead before she could talk herself out of it, and placed the phone on the countertop. She took another sip of her milkshake. Her phone lit up a moment later.

**Come over and we’ll talk?** It said in a bubble below Jughead’s name.

Betty stared at her phone for a moment before looking back and forward from Veronica to Sweet Pea. “He wants to talk.” 

“That’s good, B.” Veronica smiled, her fingers idly tracing the bottom of her glass.

“Tell him to come here,” Sweet Pea said gruffly. 

“I can’t tell him to come here, you two aren’t supposed to know anything,” Betty reminded him. She picked her straw out of the milkshake glass and licked the whipped cream from the length of it. She hesitated before typing out I’ll be right there. “I don’t want to say anything that’ll upset him,” she murmured into her milkshake.

“B, he’s willing to talk. Just see how it goes. You have his best interest at heart.” Veronica reminded her as she stole a french fry from Sweet Pea’s plate.

“Yeah, I know.” She shrugged as she pulled herself out of the booth. “I just don’t want to make anything worse.”

Sweet Pea saluted Betty as she stood in front of their table. “You’ll be okay, Bubbles.” 

Veronica whipped her head around to stare at Sweet Pea, a smile playing on her lips.

“What?” He asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “She reminds me of that Powerpuff Girl.”

Betty burst out laughing and shoved her phone into her pocket. “Thanks, Pea. I needed that. I’ll text you later, V.”

…~...

Jughead scratched the back of his head as he opened his front door. Betty was standing there, her hand curled into a fist, hovering in the air like she was about to knock.

“Hey,” he said quietly as she dropped her hand. 

“Heard from your Mom?” Betty asked. She stepped past Jughead and let herself inside.

“Nah,” Jughead shrugged and closed the door behind them. “Uh, about that class project, Bets, I didn’t mean to let it fall on your shoulders.” He followed Betty into the living room, where she was lingering in the middle of the room. “You can sit down, you know.”

Betty sat on the couch, perched on the edge the same way she had when Jughead’s mother had interrupted them. 

“So, let me know what I can do to help, where you left off with the research, and -”

“I’m sorry,” Betty blurted, cutting Jughead off.

Jughead sighed and sat down next to Betty on the couch. “I don’t want to - I'm not ready to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Betty nodded, twisting herself so she was facing him, but he kept his gaze at the ground.

“I really wish you hadn’t… witnessed it.” Jughead let out a puff of air and pressed his palms against his knees.

Betty nodded again and placed her hand on top of Jughead’s.

“I tried to… I did my best to cover the bruises. That’s all people notice when they see me, and I didn’t want you to - people pity me.” He looked up at Betty, into her eyes.

She shook her head. “I just want you to know how amazing you are, Jug.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “Thanks. I’m still not ready to talk about any of it though, okay?”

Betty nodded. “Whatever you say, Juggie.” She brushed her fingertips over his. 

They stayed like that for a moment before both of their phones sounded loudly.

Betty pulled hers out of her pocket as Jughead stood to find his, her hand suddenly cold at the lack of touch. She read her message silently, then read it again before typing out **what the hell are you doing?** and hitting send.

“Sweet Pea just sent me a message inviting me to Veronica’s.” Jughead said, his phone still in his hand.

“Yeah,” Betty said, trying not to sound exasperated. “I got the same thing from Veronica.” She stood and pressed her slick palms against her jeans. “Are you up for it?”

Jughead shrugged. “Might as well take advantage of being a free man.”

Betty’s phone bleated in her hand once more. **Don’t worry** , it read on the screen.

Easier said than done, Betty thought, but she put a smile on her face and looked back at Jughead. “Let’s go.”


	8. I Wanna Be Known By You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to my wonderful beta, elegantmoonchild, without you this fic would be a mess.

As Betty and Jughead waited for Veronica to open her front door, a loud crack of thunder erupted from the sky. 

“Here,” Jughead said as his hand hovered over the small of Betty’s back. He left it there until she shuffled forward, getting closer to the front door to shelter herself from the heavy rain that had started to fall.

There was a streak of lightning across the sky just as Veronica opened the door, a goblet in her hand and a smile plastered on her face. “Hey, guys,” She said as she ushered them inside.

“What’s the big emergency? What did you want to talk to us about?” Betty asked as she pulled her feet out of her damp shoes.

Veronica padded into the living room with Betty and Jughead trailing behind. He ran his hands through his hair, the rain having dampened his beanie enough that he had to pull it off to dry.

“‘ey, Jones,” Sweet Pea smiled as he lumbered out of the kitchen and into the living room, flanked by Fangs and Toni. He was carrying two beers, one for himself, the other he held out to Jughead.

Jughead accepted and opened it, took a small sip, and set it on the table in front of him. “What are you guys doing here?” He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well, I knew how stressed Betty was with working on that history project, and I know you’re her partner, so I thought everybody could use a little night of relaxation.” Veronica sat on the couch beside Betty. “The hot tub idea is shot now that it’s pouring outside, but we can still have fun.”

Jughead took another tentative sip of beer, then shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

“Pea, pour Betty a glass of wine, would you?” Veronica said, then took a mouthful of wine. “We already ordered the pizzas, we’ll go downstairs when they get here. I’m so glad you guys decided to come.”

“Well, when your best friend texts and says it’s an emergency, you don’t leave her hanging.” Betty smirked. “Thanks, Sweet Pea,” She smiled as she accepted a goblet filled with rosé.

“Any time, Bubbles.” He smirked.

Jughead shot him a confused glance, while Fangs’ filled the room with laughter. “Oh my god, dude, like the Powerpuff girls? Shit, dude, Veronica could be Buttercup and Toni is totally Blossom!” He was doubled over with laughter, his hand clapping against his knee.

“Yeah, yeah, get your shit together, Fangs, or I’m going to start referring to you two as Cosmo and Wanda.” Toni smirked and tipped her half empty beer toward her lips.

“What the hell did you guys watch as kids?” Jughead laughed.

The doorbell rang and Sweet Pea sauntered out of the living room to answer it.

Betty took a tentative sip of her rosé as Jughead leaned closer. “Relax, Bets, Veronica’s right. You’ve been doing a lot of hard work on that project and you deserve to loosen up.”

Betty smiled towards him and took another sip from her glass, then leaned toward him, closing the distance. “I just don’t want anything to be weird between us.”

“We’re good,” Jughead smiled before standing to help Sweet Pea with the pizza boxes. “Jesus, how many pizzas did you get?” 

“Well,” Veronica shrugged, “I figured between you, Fangs, and Pea, you’d need a pizza each, then one for me, Toni and B. Plus some breadsticks, chicken bites and dip, of course.” She stood, then jutted her chin toward the kitchen. “Basement’s this way.”

Veronica’s basement was, of course, enormous. There was a pool table, a bathroom complete with a claw foot tub, and a massive entertainment center. They ate around the coffee table (finishing three and a half of the four pizzas) while watching movies on the biggest TV Betty had ever seen. 

They started by watching Get Out, then White Chicks, which Sweet Pea and Fangs mimicked from time to time. 

Veronica and Sweet Pea stood to grab refills from the kitchen as the credits rolled, when Betty grabbed her arm. “Actually, V, do you mind if I help? I need to stretch my legs.”

Veronica shrugged. “Sure, whatever you say,” She smiled.

They made their way up the stairs, and Betty waited until they were in the kitchen before saying anything else. “What do you think you’re doing, Veronica?” Betty demanded, placing empty bottles and cups on the counter for refills.

“What do you mean?” Veronica asked, peering into the fridge.

“I’m mean you better not have come up with some plan with Sweet Pea, like you’re going to slip up and tell Jughead you know, or like… you want me to tell him my feelings, or -”

“B,” Veronica said gently, turning toward her as she closed the fridge. “I promise, neither of us have any hidden motives. I figured tensions would be high at Jughead’s and I know you’re stressed keeping his secret. I thought a little get together would help you both. That’s all. I’m sorry if my text made it seem like something else.”  


“You swear?” Betty sighed as Veronica refilled her glass of rosé.

“Yes, B, I swear.” Veronica said earnestly.

Betty wrapped her arms around Veronica, squeezing her, before stepping away. “Thank you. You’ve been a really great friend to me.”

Veronica laughed. “You’re the B to my V. You’re stuck with me now,” She smiled, tucking four bottles of beer under her arm, a bag of chips and a plastic tub of gummy worms in her hand. “You got the wine?” 

“I got the wine,” Betty answered. “Let’s go.”

…~...

“It is really coming down out there,” Veronica announced after returning to the group. “Lightning is really lighting up the sky.” She murmured, flicking through the movie options on her TV.

She settled on The Conjuring, grabbing onto Sweet Pea whenever something popped out or made her jump.

Betty’s arms were wrapped around her knees and she was leaning forward when she felt Jughead lean against her, his hand palm up and held out towards her. “I don’t like the white ones,” He whispered, his palm full of white gummy bears. “Do you want them?”

“Sure,” She smiled at him, and he dumped the gummies into her hand.

They were half way through Rush Hour when they heard a loud crack of thunder, causing Betty to jump. Suddenly, everything went dark, the TV shut off and it was eerily quiet in Veronica’s house.

“Well, guess that’s the end of movie night,” Toni joked quietly.

Betty’s phone lit up - **where are you?** Her mom had texted, a little heart emoji next to the message.

Betty grabbed her phone and sent a quick message back: **at V’s, safe but no power**.

“Alright,” Veronica sighed, turning on the flashlight on her phone. “I guess we should go upstairs.”

They trudged out of the basement, Veronica at the front, providing the light from her phone. Jughead was at the back of the line, Betty in front of him, his hand placed carefully against the small of her back.

Sweet Pea, Veronica and Toni gathered at the back door, their hands clasped around their eyes so they could see out of the large window. Jughead, Betty and Fangs went to the front, closing their eyes as another flash of lightning lit up the sky, a roll of thunder following. 

“It looks like it’s out all over the neighborhood,” Fangs murmured, a smile spreading across his face. “I love storms.”

“God, look at the street,” Betty said, watching as the water flooded what looked like every surface outside.

“The hot tub’s overflowing,” Veronica called as she padded into the living room. “I think you guys should stay here tonight.”

As if reinforcing her point, thunder sounded again, followed by the noise of something hard falling on the roof.

“Is that hail?” Betty asked.

“Looks like it,” Sweet Pea answered, peering out the window. “Fuck, what a storm.”

“Yeah, what a storm,” Veronica reiterated, her hand on her hip. “And I don’t want any of you getting hurt trying to get home. There’s plenty of room. You guys are staying, no argument.”

Betty was the first one to nod. “My mom’s on the night shift, but I know she’d want me to be safe. I’ll just text her and let her know.”

“Perfect,” Veronica smiled. “Pea?”

Sweet Pea was staring at his phone. “Just waiting for the okay from the old man,” he said quietly, his eyes only on Veronica.

She gave him a small smile. “Toni? Fangs?”

Toni shrugged. “I’m in. I’m staying at Fangs’ tonight anyway,” She laughed.

“Grams is asleep, she won’t wake up until nine o’clock anyway. We’re good to stay here, if you’re sure, Ron.”

The entire living room lit up with a flash of lightning. “Good,” Veronica nodded. “What the hell are you supposed to do when the power goes out?”

“Shit, you got me,” Sweet Pea muttered, his hand reaching for the back of his head, then looked at his phone. “Pop’s says it’s okay to stay here. Says it’s supposed to get even nastier out there.”

“Good,” Veronica said again, then turned to Betty. “Your Mom answer you yet? Jughead, you in?”

“Yeah, she said it’s smart to stay where I am.” She reached out and touched Jughead’s arm gently. “Juggie? You in?”

“Uh, I don’t know…” He said quietly, trailing off.

“You said your mom probably won’t be coming home, right? No harm, no foul. Plus, you’ll be safe.”

Jughead sighed, then nodded. “Yeah, right. I’m in.”

“Perfect,” Veronica smiled. “Pea and I will take my parents room. Jughead, B, you can have my room, and Toni and Fangs, you can sleep downstairs on the pull out couch.”

Fangs yawned and stretched, putting an arm around Toni, who laughed and shoved him off. 

“Toni, you need pajamas or anything?” Veronica asked, stifling a yawn herself.

“No, I have clean gym shorts in my bag. And this goober is sleeping on the floor.” She joked, hip checking Fangs.

“There are pillows and blankets in the bathroom closet down there,” Veronica stated, turning her head as another flash of lightning lit up the sky. “And,” she said, dropping her voice, “if you need a sleeping blanket, there’s one of those too. I’d offer this couch, but Daddy doesn’t like anyone to sleep on it.”

Toni shrugged, a smile playing on her face. “Don’t worry, me and this big lug have slept in the same bed so many times I’ve lost count.”

“Are you okay using the flashlight on your phone? I have no idea where an real one would be.” Veronica leaned into Sweet Pea’s side, stifling another yawn.

“Yeah, we’re good. Thanks for having us,” Toni smiled, squeezed Veronica’s arm, and ushered Fangs’ back towards the stairs.

“B, you good for PJ’s or do you need some?”

“Uh, I need some,” Betty blushed, thankful that the room was basically pitch black.

“Alright, come on, guys.” Veronica said, a loud crack of thunder punctuating her sentence.

“I’m gonna grab a bottle of water before we go up,” Sweet Pea murmured. “Anyone else want one?”

“I’m good,” Veronica yawned.

“I’ll take one,” Betty answered as Jughead shook his head.

Veronica started towards the stairs, her cellphone lighting the way. She pushed her bedroom door open, focusing the light from her phone toward her dresser. “The pajamas are in the top drawer. I kept my diffuser on while we were downstairs, so that’s what you’re smelling. Do you guys need anything else?”

Sweet Pea came up behind her, lingering in the doorway, and held Betty’s water out toward her.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, V.”

She smiled. “Jughead, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”

Veronica nodded and giggled as Sweet Pea caressed her side. “Bathroom’s across the hall. I’ll see you two in the morning.” She closed the door behind her as she left.

“How much battery does your phone have?” Betty asked, lighting up her screen.

“Uh,” Jughead reached into his pocket. “About forty six percent. You?”

“Eighty-two. I got the flashlight,” She said, making it illuminate, and padded towards the dresser. She pulled a pair of shorts and a large looking t-shirt out of the drawer, then clutched them to her chest. “I guess I’ll go to the washroom to change.”

 

By the time Betty got back to the room, Jughead was lying on the ground, turned toward the wall, his beanie pulled off and his arm beneath a pillow.

“Juggie, you still awake?” Betty whispered as she closed the bedroom door behind her.

“Yeah,” He answered, his arm shifting slightly beneath the blanket he pulled down from the bed.

“Will you…” She trailed off, shifting underneath Veronica’s comforter. “Will you come up here, please? Storms scare me.” Her voice was small, embarrassed.

He didn’t say anything as he stood, pulling the pillow and blanket with him. He crawled into bed next to Betty, rearranging his pillow beneath him. “You really scared of storms?” He asked after a moment.

“Yeah,” She breathed. “I know it’s stupid, but they’ve always made me nervous.”

“I thought you liked the rain,” Jughead murmured. He turned underneath the blanket, facing her.

“I do,” She shifted, too, facing him. “It’s the lightning and thunder that make me nervous. The wind. It can get dangerous.”

Jughead was quiet, his eyes searching hers as best he could in the dark. “You’re safe.”

She was silent, nodding against the pillow. When a loud crack of lightning sounded, she shrunk back against the covers.

“You okay?”

Betty didn’t answer, just kept silent for a moment. 

“C’mere,” Jughead murmured, shifting ever so slightly closer to her.”It’s okay.”

Betty squirmed closer, her cheek resting against his chest, her bare legs tangling against his. “Thank you,” She said so quietly, he wasn’t even sure she said it.

She felt his arm curl around the shoulder that wasn’t pressed against him. She couldn’t help but nestle her cheek further into his chest and she breathed deeply, the familiar scent that was on his hoodie was on this t-shirt, too. She brought her hand against his chest, the sound of rain calming her. She was almost asleep when a loud crack of thunder sounded, the sound of hail spattering across the room. She jumped, pressing herself against the mattress.

“It’s okay, Bets,” Jughead whispered into her hair. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He curled his fingers against her, bringing her as close as she could get. “Shh,” He murmured.

…~...

The next morning, Betty woke up facing the doorway of Veronica’s bedroom. She felt a heavy arm wrapped around her waist, her backside firmly pressed against Jughead’s torso.

Her first instinct was to move, to get up and make sure Jughead wasn’t embarrassed by the situation. But her second, louder instinct was to stay still. She felt extremely content, well rested and happy. His body felt like it was made perfectly to fit against hers. She sighed, a smile spreading across her face. She closed her eyes, drifting back to sleep.

 

When she woke up the second time, she was curled into Jughead’s side, her hand laced together with Jughead’s on top of his chest. Her face was slowly rising with each breath Jughead took, her cheek resting against the soft cotton on his t-shirt. She was assuming he was still asleep by the steady rhythm of his breathing, but she didn’t want to move, lest she disturb him.

She smiled, taking in the moment, wishing she could wake up like this tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. But, only twenty-four hours ago, Jughead wasn’t speaking to her. She wondered what he would think if he woke up to her laying in his arms.

She gripped his hand a little tighter and pressed herself closer to his body, sleepy, happy and content. She let herself drift off once more.

 

Betty woke up to a hand pressed warmly against her hip, the other hand raking gently through her loose hair. She could smell coffee being brewed downstairs, the aroma of bacon making her aware of the hunger pangs in her stomach - but for the life of her, she didn’t want to move. 

Jughead was clearly awake, and didn’t seem to mind the current arrangement. Betty sighed, gripped Jughead’s side a little tighter, and yawned.

“You awake?” Jughead whispered after a moment, his fingers stilling in her hair.

“Yes,” Betty said, her voice caught in her throat. “Good morning,” she said louder, not moving from her current position.

Jughead didn’t say anything, and moved his hand from her hair, letting it rest gently against her back. Then, “How did you sleep?”

“Really, really well.” Betty admitted. “You?”

“Better than I’ve slept in a long time.” His hand was still resting on her hip bone, his thumb moving ever-so-gently against her skin. 

“Are you hungry?” She sighed, pulling herself off of Jughead’s chest. She moved so she was mimicking his position, next to him.

He sat up, readjusting his pillows behind his head to prop his head up. He was looking into Betty’s eyes, a smile on his lips.

“What?” Betty smiled, searching his eyes.

“How do you look this good in the morning?” 

Color flushed Betty’s cheeks. “Stop,” she laughed, bringing her hands to cover her face. 

“I’m serious,” Jughead murmured, then turned on his side, propping himself on his elbow to face her. “You’re beautiful, Betty.”

She dropped her hands to look at him. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been… confusing. I’m still not really ready to talk about everything but -” He sighed, closing his eyes. “Thank you.” He blinked. “For being there for me.”

Betty smiled up at him. “You don’t have to thank me, Juggie. I’ll always be there for you.”

“You, uh, you want to go get some breakfast?” Jughead chuckled. “I’m starving.”

She nodded. “Yeah, sure.” She sat up in bed, groaning as she stretched. “I’m just going to change first.” 

Betty swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her arms over her head as she stretched again. She padded over to the chair that her clothes were on as Jughead quickly pulled on his clothing from last night, and headed toward the door. 

“Bets?” Jughead straightened his t-shirt and leaned against the wall next to the bedroom door.

“Yeah?”

He ran his palm against her jaw, hooking his fingers lightly behind her ear to pull her forward, his lips meeting hers. He sighed into the kiss before pulling away once more, then quickly pressed his lips against her forehead. 

“I’ll see you down there.”

…~...

“How do you like your eggs, Betty?” Sweet Pea called from the stove, piling a load of crispy bacon onto a plate.

There was a pot of coffee on the table next to a jug of orange juice, a box of cereal, a plate of sausages, and a bowl of fruit.

Betty had piled her hair into a loose bun on top of her head and was winding her fingers through the back of it. She stared, dumbfounded, at Sweet Pea. “Uh, scrambled, please.” She padded toward the table. “Just one, though, I’m not a huge fan of eggs.”

Sweet Pea laughed. “Well, there’s no gun to your head, Bubbles, you don’t have to have the eggs.”

Betty just shrugged. “They’re good for you.”

“Whatever you say,” Pea cracked an egg one handed against the side of the pan, then turned to Fangs, who was munching on a piece of bacon beside him. “Toni ever tell you what kind she wanted?”

“She said she wanted eggs benedict,” Fangs guffawed. 

“She would,” Pea muttered.

Betty smiled and made her way to the table, picking up a mug and the pot of coffee, then sat down between Veronica and Jughead. She poured milk into the mug, spooned in some sugar, then took a sip.

“Honestly, I think the first sip of coffee in the morning could qualify as a religious experience.”

“I second that,” Jughead murmured. “You’re tainting it with all that milk and sugar, though.”

“What’s with people who drink coffee black being all holier than thou? It’s still coffee.” Veronica pointed her spoon toward Jughead.

“Because you’re taking something sacred and making it some sugary bullshit,” Jughead laughed, stabbing a sausage with his fork and putting it on his plate.

“Says the guy who drowns his eggs in ketchup.” Veronica said as she took another bite of her cereal.

“Don’t mock it ‘til you try it.” Jughead smirked.

“Hey, blondie, your eggs are ready.” Sweet Pea cut in.

Betty smiled as she stood, forgetting, for a moment, the circumstances that brought them together. If it weren’t for Jughead’s unfortunate home life, they wouldn’t be together right now. But, here they were, gathered around Veronica’s kitchen, acting like they’d known each other their entire lives. She hoped that they would still be having breakfast together, in a group, in the next ten years. Maybe get apartments across from one another like in Friends.

“Earth to Betty,” Veronica interrupted her thoughts. “You okay?”

“I’m okay,” Betty nodded. “I’m great.” She padded toward the Sweet Pea, her plate held out toward the stove. “Hey, if we were in Friends, who do you think would be who?”

Sweet Pea flipped Betty’s eggs onto her plate with a spatula. “I’d be Joey, Jug would be Chandler, and Fangs would be Ross, no question.”

“Hey, I’m way cooler than Ross.” Fangs protested.

“Toni would be Phoebe, you’d be Monica, and Veronica would be Rachel. Everyone good for eggs?” Pea turned to survey the room.

“How much have you thought about this?” Jughead laughed. “I could use another omelette.”

“Don’t Rachel and Ross end up together?” Veronica teased.

“Yeah, but everyone knows Joey deserved Rachel,” Sweet Pea explained as he cracked three eggs into the pan. “She’s the only one he ever really loved, and only stepped aside because of the kid. Ross treated Rachel like shit. Joey treated her how she deserved to be treated.” He turned, jutting his chin toward the pot of coffee, silently asking for a refill. “What? I like Friends.”

…~...

After breakfast, a few episodes of Friends on Netflix, and a promise to meet up with Sweet Pea for a round of Fortnite later, Jughead walked Betty home, then wandered home himself. The skies had cleared, and apart from a lot of puddles on the roads and sidewalks, and a little debris and tree branches scattered along people’s yards, you’d have never known that there had been a storm last night.

He shoved his dead cellphone into his jeans pocket, wanting to get inside to text Veronica and Betty to thank them for last night. He wasn’t good with words in person and much preferred to write them.

He dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the front door, listening to it squeak open. He stepped inside, the hair standing up on the back of his neck instantly as he smelled fresh cigarette smoke. His mother was back already, much faster than usual.

He faltered into the living room, then, when it was empty, into the kitchen. There was no use trying to hide from her. 

“Hi, Mom,” Jughead murmured quietly.

She spun in her chair to face him. “Where the fuck have you been?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Strap in for the next chapter, folks, it's gonna be a doozy! 
> 
> Thanks for reading (:


	9. Don't Let Me Be Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, hello. Firstly, I'm so sorry that this has basically taken me *two months* to update. Thank you if you've stuck around to read. This will be one of the last chapters.

Jughead kept his head down, hearing the scrape of a chair being pushed back against the floor. 

“I _said_ , where the fuck have you been, Jughead?” Gladys demanded, her voice echoing throughout the house.

“I-I went out with some friends, Mom,” Jughead stammered as he walked through the living room.

Gladys retreated from the kitchen, effectively cutting him off from entering his room, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She scoffed. “What friends? Don’t you lie to me, boy, where have you been?”

“With my friends, I - why do you care?” Jughead said, squinting. He looked up and into her eyes. “You weren’t here.”

“I’m a grown woman, I can go anywhere I want, anytime I please, and I don’t answer to you. Where I’ve been doesn’t matter, Jughead.”

“It does matter, Mom, because I’m a minor and you’re supposed to be here, taking care of me, because you’re my parent. So maybe next time you want to take off without telling me where you’re going, you should think about that.”

Jughead felt the crack to his cheek before he really saw anything; a blinding pain radiating from his cheek bone tingled across his skin and he blinked to rid his vision of stars. 

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Gladys spat, her eyes staring daggers at Jughead. She took a step forward, causing him to step back.

Jughead dropped his head and muttered, “A lousy goddamn parent,” wincing as soon as it came out of his mouth.

“Excuse me?” Gladys grabbed Jughead’s face in her hand, taking another step forward. Her fingers dug into his cheek and she squeezed, causing his lips to pucker.

He took another step back, wrenching his face away from his mother’s grip. “You - you never tell me where you’re going or how long you’ll be gone. How was I supposed to know you’d be back so soon?” He took another step. 

“That’s not the fucking point!” Gladys brought a fist down against Jughead’s stomach. “You’re supposed to be here, Jughead, you’re supposed to be the man of the house since your father is gone! You’re supposed to -”

“No, you’re supposed to. You’re supposed to be the parent, so being here is your fucking job.” Jughead fumed, his eyes welling with tears. 

Gladys took another step forward. “You’re useless! I can’t count on you for anything. I should’ve gotten rid of you when I had the chance! You’re a mistake.”

“Fuck you,” Jughead cried, strings of spittle clinging to his chin with the force of the words.

He felt the sting of a fist colliding with his chest, and then pain all over his body, another blow to his chest, then his shin, the side of his head, darkness clouding his vision as he was suddenly staring upwards from the bottom of the staircase.

…~...

When Jughead finally pulled himself up the stairs, his mom was gone. He wasn’t really sure quite how long he’d been down there, or when exactly she’d left. He did know, however, that something felt very wrong. He’d been in pain many times in his life, but nothing ever felt quite like this.

He couldn’t take a deep breath, and when he tried, it was excruciating. He felt tired, achy, and lethargic. His heart was beating a mile a minute and his chest felt tight. 

He sighed, cursing to himself. He didn’t want to get anyone else involved, but he knew he had to get help - he wasn’t sure, exactly, what was wrong, but there was definitely something.

He didn’t take any keys as he faltered out the front door; he hadn’t taken his wallet out of his pocket or removed his sweater. He just lumbered down the sidewalk, starting his slow, painful walk to the hospital.

…~...

He arrived, who knows how long later - trying to breathe was agonizing; he could hear himself wheezing noisily, there was a tightness in his chest that was getting worse, and every breath he tried to take in made it feel like something was stabbing him.

He ambled over to a desk, leaning against it heavily. There were two people behind it - one, a youngish man with blond hair and dark eyebrows, and the other a middle aged woman with dark skin and the longest eyelashes Jughead had ever seen - he wasn’t quite sure why he noticed, but he figured it had something to do with the way she was suddenly hovering over him.

“Come here, honey,” she said, coming out from behind the receptionist area. She helped him to a chair. “Is there a parent or guardian with you?”

Jughead tried to take a breath, then winced. “No, she uh - I tripped and fell down the stairs.” 

The nurse held his gaze, eyeing his still-forming bruises, the way he clutched his side. “You wait here. I’ll get you some forms to fill out.” 

She came back a moment later with a clipboard, a few pieces of paper attached to it. “Alright, now you have to fill this out, but we can’t treat you until we have the consent of a parent or guardian.”

“I don’t think she’s at home,” Jughead said weakly. “She could be at Tiffany’s, where she works, or -” he voice dropped an octave. “She could be at the Whyte Wyrm.”

The nurse nodded curtly and handed him a pen, helping him sit in a nearby chair. “My name’s Jodi if you need anything.”

Jughead was trying to telepathically tell his mother to go along with his story - he fell down the stairs, which she knew nothing about. He put the pen to paper, filling out the forms to the best of his ability - he knew all the information, of course, but his brain didn’t seem to work as well as it usually did. He was forgetting whether or not his mom had insurance. He was sure his dad did, but Hell would freeze over before he would tell him he was in the hospital.

Once he was finished filling out the forms, he gathered his strength and limped back to the nurse’s station, pushing the clipboard toward Jodi. 

She looked down at the forms, then picked up the phone. “Alright, Forsythe, I’ll call your mother and let her know what’s going on. Take a seat, I’ll let you know when you can come on back.”

…~...

Jughead didn’t remember closing his eyes, let alone falling asleep, but he found himself blinking awake at the startling sound of his mother's voice.

“What did that clumsy kid of mine do now?” He heard her say, working overtime to try to keep her voice light.

He stood and ambled, as carefully as he could, over to the nurse’s station. “Mom,” he interrupted the nurse just as she opened her mouth to speak. “You made it.” It almost sounded like a question.

Gladys made no sound as her eyes raked over Jughead’s face, making no attempt to act like the concerned parent. “What happened to you?” She asked, keeping her voice steady.

“I uh,” Jughead licked his lips. “I fell down the stairs when I got up this morning. And my ribs are still killing me so,” he turned to face the nurse. “Since my mom’s here, could I see someone now?”

“Soon, baby, just a couple more things to do. Terry, will you get this young man a wheelchair please?” Nurse Jodi murmured to the person behind the counter, who Jughead noticed was no longer the blonde man who was working when he came in; a balding man who he guessed was in his forties had replaced him.

“That’s really not necessary,” Jughead protested.

“Just -” His mother hissed, her cheeks visibly reddening. She took a breath. “Just do as she says, Jug, okay?”

He nodded curtly and sat in the wheelchair when it was wheeled behind him and nodded once to Terry.

Nurse Jodi and his mother talked quietly between themselves for a few minutes as Jughead pulled his cellphone out of his pants pocket. He noted it had a fresh, albeit small, crack in the already damaged screen. He unlocked the homescreen and several text messages from Sweet Pea popped up, plus one from Betty.

He scanned through the messages from Sweet Pea and quickly wrote one back, hoping it made sense. He tried to explain that he had fallen down the stairs, begrudgingly confided that he was in the hospital and apologized for not texting sooner, that they’d have to get together another time.

“Forsythe?” The nurse said from behind the counter. “Let’s go.”

…~...

Betty was perched in her chair, facing the large mirror on her vanity, meticulously brushing her hair. There was soft, melodic music pouring through a speaker next to her and she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, memories of last night flooding her mind.

She set the brush gently on the counter, having reached her hundredth stroke, then swept her hair into her hands and gathered it into a ponytail. The song changed just as she reached for her mascara, getting closer to the mirror to rake it between her lashes. Just as she put the wand back in the tube, her cell phone lit up beside her.

“Hey, Ronnie,” she smiled as she put the phone to her ear. “Slow down, Veronica, what?”

“Pea just got a text from Jughead - he’s in the hospital. Says he fell down the stairs, which is probably such -”

“Oh my god.” Betty could feel tears pricking her eyes instantly, threatening to spill over. “Veronica, thank you for calling me. Thank you,” she swallowed. “I’ll call you later, okay?” She hung up before Veronica could answer, practically swallowing the words before they even came out of her mouth. 

There was a lump in her throat as she pulled Jughead’s sweater over her head from the stand in the corner of her room. She pulled her fresh, neat ponytail loose and let her hair fall in front of her face as she bent down to pick up her purse - crying gave her a headache, and ponytails usually made her headaches worse - before slipping on a pair of shoes and heading out the door of her room.

It was raining softly when Betty left her house, and about another block further before she looked down and noticed. She walked past the coffee shop she usually got her and Jughead’s morning donuts, past town hall, past the murial her mom’s graduating class made that lead into the biggest park in Riverdale.

It took her another two blocks to notice it was raining a lot harder than it was she left her house, and a loud, blaring car horn to shake her from her thoughts of what exactly could have happened to Jughead to leave him in the hospital.

She shuffled into the hospital waiting room, her sweater soaked from the rain and tears running down her cheeks. She leaned heavily on the nurse’s desk and waited for her to look up from the computer.

Betty sniffed. “I’m not sure if it’s even visiting hours, I’m sorry.” She held back a sob. “I’m here to see Jughead Jones.”

The nurse gave her a measured look, then nodded once. “Forsythe Jones just got done with the doctors, honey, but I’ll let you see him for a bit, okay?” She turned to the man on her left. “Terry, I’m going to show this young lady Mr. Jones’ room. Get me a diet soda if Freda comes back from break, please.”

She lead Betty through long, wide halls, through twists and turns of corridors and up one set of stairs before finally turning to the right. She stopped Betty with a feather light touch of the shoulder. 

“He’s banged up, but it looks worse than it is, okay? Don’t let it scare you too much. He’ll be getting tired from his medication, so only a few minutes. It’s room 256, two doors down on the left. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.” She gave Betty a small smile and a squeeze of the shoulder before she turned on her heel and retreated the way they came.

Betty steeled herself before making her way down the hall. She took a deep breath as she came to room 256, the door already propped open in front of her. 

There was a machine hooked up to Jughead, making a slow, steady beeping sound, a nasal cannula hooked within his nose. She swallowed down her tears as she took in the rest of his bruised and battered appearance. He had cuts and bandages all over him, a cup of water next to his bed and the shades on the windows were drawn, casting out the quickly fading sunlight. 

She rounded his bedside and gathered his hand in her own, gripping it as she perched on the chair next to his bed. “Juggie,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

She watched as he breathed deeply in through his nose, then winced. “Hi Bets,” he said weakly, the corners of his mouth turning upwards. It took a moment before his eyes opened, bloodshot but still piercing blue all the same. 

“Jug, what did she do to you?” Betty breathed, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

“What, this? This is nothin’,” He tried to smirk, but ended up closing his eyes. “I’m just tired. Don’t know what they gave me.”

“You scared the hell out of me, Jughead.” Betty whispered, letting the tears fall down her face. She pressed her lips against Jughead’s hand as he opened his eyes again.

“I’m not going anywhere, Bets.” 

There was a knock on the open door, a bouncy blonde ponytail and a squeaky shoe announcing the nurse before she actually got into view. “Just here to check your breathing, then we’ll let you sleep in peace,” The nurse announced. Her squeaky shoes stopped suddenly. “Betty?” The shocked voice came from her mother, complete with her favourite pair of Mickey Mouse scrubs. 

“Hi Mom... this is Jughead,” she breathed, wiping tears off her cheek with her free hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones.” She grabbed his chart out of the folder at the end of his bed, then turned to Betty. “Why don’t you say your goodbyes, then meet me downstairs by the nurse’s station? He’s my last patient for tonight.”

Betty nodded. She stood, giving Jughead’s hand one last squeeze before setting it gently down on his chest. 

“Bets?” Jughead murmured. “Come back tomorrow,” he breathed, closing his eyes once more.

“You can count on it,” Betty whispered softly. She gave him a gentle kiss on his forehead, grabbed her purse from the floor and padded out of the hospital room.

… ~ …

The drive home was a quiet one, save for the windshield wipers on full force, the street lights shining against the dark sky. When had it become dark out? Betty wondered. When Alice pulled into their driveway and shut off the ignition, she had to prompt Betty to get out of the vehicle. She shuffled into the house, kicked off her shoes, and stood, swaying, in the middle of the hallway.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Come here.” They took a few steps and Alice pulled her into her arms. 

They collapsed, together, in a plush armchair in the living room, rocking gently as Alice smoothed Betty’s hair, tears falling from her eyes freely.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
